


Diabolus Experimentum

by Shisaa



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Be gentle, Can I tag Angst about 5 more times?, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 04, Self-Harm, Vulnerable Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Wings, but songs are included, it's my first time, not a songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2020-08-20 23:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shisaa/pseuds/Shisaa
Summary: The thumb drive was sitting innocuously on Chloe’s kitchen counter when she returned home from Lux after Lucifer's sudden departure. A crisp white card with flowing black script sat beside it.





	1. Prologue: Doctor’s Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse the brevity of this first entry, as this is a Prologue. 
> 
> This first bit is set between S1E8 "Et tu, Doctor?" and S1E9 "A Priest Walks Into a Bar".

“Lucifer, you’re _clearly_ struggling. I’m just saying that this could help you-“

“It’s bloody absurd, Doctor! Really… talking to myself? Surely there are better-“

Linda interrupted him, clearing her throat. “I’m _saying_ that this could help you process all of these new emotions so that you can then deal with them constructively. You wouldn’t be talking to yourself; you wouldn’t even have to talk! You are a very musical being-“

“Well, there’s no music in Hell, Doctor. I’m sure I’ve told you that. It’s a privilege to be able to play on Earth.”

“Yes, of course,” She took a deep breath. Work within his metaphors, Linda. “As you have this connection to music, I think it could be a useful tool for you. The camera is there simply so that you can review later, if you feel the _desire_,” the word hung in the air for a moment, distracting her. She swallowed audibly, “or if you want to even share the footage with someone else, like me. Or Chloe.”

Lucifer looked doubtful and opened his mouth to surely protest further. Linda was having none of it. “_Please_, Lucifer. Just try. Rant at the camera about how stupid you think this is. Play an absurd, nonsensical song. I don’t care. Just spend a few minutes every so often taking a moment to reflect and record your thoughts – your _feelings_. If you find no value in it after a few tries, we can move on to something else.”

Lucifer sat quietly, tilting his head to the side inquisitively as he considered her proposal. After a few moments, he replied, “Very well, Doctor. We can try it your way; but when nothing comes of this, I’ll want recompense for the time wasted prattling on to an appliance in lieu of the therapy I’ve signed on for.”

Linda fought to not roll her eyes at his antics. “It’s a deal, Lucifer.”

He perked up at that, standing gracefully. “Well then! I suppose I have a camera to buy! Who knows, I may find other more _wicked_ uses for it...” He lost himself in thought for a moment, running his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. Now Linda did allow herself to roll her eyes, standing as well.

“Remember, Lucifer: the goal is to help you with the feelings you’re having trouble interpreting. I’m pretty sure you already interpret _that_ particular feeling quite well.”

Lucifer waved to her dismissively as he turned to go. “Yes yes, of course, Doctor. I’ll wait until after this little experiment is finished to have my fun. You have my word!”

With a flourish of fine silk, he was gone, leaving Linda alone to dread the ways he would find to turn this latest suggestion into a travesty of therapeutic advice.


	2. Diabolus Experimentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's response to the Season 4 finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst. Angsttttttt.
> 
> There is a description of a panic attack, so if your panic attacks are triggered by others describing panic attacks please don't read on.
> 
> Beta'd by my good friend juxtaposed_cat

The thumb drive was sitting innocuously on Chloe’s kitchen counter when she returned home from Lux after Lucifer’s sudden departure. A crisp white card with flowing black script sat beside it. However, this anomaly in the normative kitchen scene initially went unnoticed.

Chloe was exhausted from the recent events. Alternating between fury and despair, she’d spent hours at Lux after Lucifer was gone. Sometimes she’d screamed, rage and sorrow turning her throat hoarse. Other times she’d prayed – to Lucifer, to God. It didn’t matter, as long as her Devil came back. Eventually, through pounding headache and burning throat, Chloe simply allowed herself to despair. Sinking onto his leather sofa, she cried. Ultimately, the empty penthouse became too burdensome in its reminder of who she’d lost.

As she closed the door to her own home, she could still taste his kiss, bitter with her tears and his goodbye. Raising a hand to her own lips, Chloe drifted towards her bedroom, eyes unseeing as she replayed the past several years in her mind. Her bed creaked a lonely sound as she fell into it fully clothed. For now, she would grieve – a calculated retreat before the future battle, she told herself.

Tears continued to stain her pillow long after she’d fallen into fitful slumber.

~v~v~v~

It was three days before Chloe discovered the flash drive. She’d slept the entirety of the first day, and the second was spent binge-watching Rom-Coms while crying and eating cool ranch puffs that Lucifer had kept stocked in her home “for emergencies.” Surely, this counted. By day three, Chloe felt a bit more herself. Determined to focus on how to get Lucifer back, she’d decided a shower and some actual non-cool-ranch-flavored food would help her think. However, when she saw the small drive with the note beside it, she froze.

Even from a yard away, she could tell the handwriting was Lucifer’s. In his skilled hand, every word had a habit of looking like it had been penned with a quill, regardless of the writing instrument. She’d seen him take crayons from Trixie and write her name in a script that looked like it belonged in a museum somewhere, not on a child’s drawing. With shaking hands, Chloe reached for the card.

The card stock was obviously ridiculously expensive. She couldn’t help the gentle laugh as the idea of Lucifer harassing some poor office store employee while choosing paper flit across her mind. The front of the note simply had her name scrawled across it, but it brought fresh tears to her eyes. Taking a steadying breath, she carefully opened the card to read what he’d written.

\---

_Dearest Chloe,_

_First and foremost, I’m sorry. For everything. I’m afraid I’ve made a right mess of things. I never intended to cause you pain, please know that. Regardless, I have. I know I have. The Devil has no right to seek forgiveness, and yet I find myself craving yours. Bit late, I suspect._

_On this data stick are the pertinent account details to my varied Earthly belongings. Money, properties, all the things you seem to place no interest in – to my endless dismay, might I add. Do with them what you will. I only hope to help ease your burdens and provide for Beatrice’s future. I’ve left the business of Lux to Maze – she’s always had a taste for it. She insisted she stay, by the way. Her choice. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved, knowing she’s there to protect you and the spawn, and we both know I don’t lie._

_Lastly, you’ll find a folder marked “Diabolus Experimentum.”_ _ Doctor Linda had this idea, mind you, it wasn’t mine. I’d thought the notion absurd at the time. Nonetheless, you may find these recordings to your liking. I suspect I’ve always intended to share them with you, but I haven’t the time to consult the good Doctor on this revelation._

_I wish you every happiness in the universe, Chloe. Truly._

_L_

\---

At some point while reading, Chloe had slowly crumpled to the floor. After re-reading the message multiple times, it was all she could do to just close her eyes and lean against the cool side of the kitchen counter. He hadn’t said he’d be back. No ‘See you later’ or ‘Until next time, Detective’. For the first time, Chloe considered that he really didn’t intend to return. That, perhaps, her Devil really was out of her reach. What would she do if she never saw him again? No infuriatingly debauched grins, no inquisitive brown eyes...

Her heart ached terribly. No – it wasn’t just her heart. It felt like every fiber of her being was sore, spasming around the hole left by Lucifer’s departure. He’d left to protect them; he’d gone back to Hell to ensure their safety. He wished her every happiness _in the universe_ but failed to realize that _he_ was a part of that. Next to Trixie, he was her greatest happiness – her best friend, dependable partner, and in an insufferably ironic way, her savior. A choked laugh escaped from around a barely contained sob. He wouldn’t like that comparison, would he?

Chloe wasn’t sure how long she’d remained on the kitchen floor, but eventually physical pain made itself known over her emotional turmoil. Her legs were asleep, knees smarting from being bent oddly beneath her. Her back was stiff, sending intermittent twinges of sharp pain radiating through her nervous system. It was a relief, really. She welcomed the grounding sensations. Still clutching the card, she struggled to rise with unresponsive limbs. Static prickling, sharp but not unpleasant, rushed along her legs as she stood. She could do this – she needed to focus on the _now_.

Trixie was with Dan, but she was due to come home tomorrow. Once she was around, maybe Chloe wouldn’t feel so empty, so raw. She would be kept busy for the week until Dan picked their daughter up again. Maybe then, she would be able to handle the thumb drive and its contents. For now, it was too difficult. She grasped the small device, rolling it absently in her hand. ‘1TB’ was clearly printed on both sides. Yes, it was too much, too soon. Chloe opened the nearest kitchen drawer, the one where various kitchen bobbles and gadgets and dongles were compiled in a sad pretense of organization, and gently laid the stick on the top. _Later_, she told herself, closing the drawer with a click that sounded a bit too final for her liking.

Chloe realized then that the card was still held firmly in her other hand. She considered including it in the drawer but couldn’t bring herself to hide it away in cluttered darkness. Instead, she decided to place it underneath the pillow on the cold, unused side of her bed. He’d like that, she thought. After all, he’d been trying to get in her bed for ages. Smiling fondly at the memories, she went about cleaning away the evidence of her foray into despair. She knew she’d have to revisit her wounds, but for now she needed organization, distance, routine.

~v~v~v~

For the next week, Chloe made an admirable show of being a functioning mother and detective. There was plenty of paperwork for her to do, and Trixie seemed to understand that Lucifer’s whereabouts were a touchy subject without ever asking. She intended to talk with her daughter about it, just not yet.

Only at night, alone in her bed, would Chloe allow herself to remember him. Sometimes she’d laugh; more often she’d cry. Still, she found a small bit of peace thinking of him while gently fiddling with the edges of his letter underneath the pillow by her head. She’d discovered that the card smelled faintly of him, sandalwood and smoke. If she laid just right, every breath she took would carry the faintest traces of him into her lungs. Only then would she be able to sleep.

The night before Trixie would spend the week with Dan, Chloe was idly thumbing the card in the dark when she noticed an aberration in the now familiar texture. Gently removing the card from its nook, she noticed the edges didn’t look quite as sharp – there were some small tears in the paper here and there, and a few wayward water droplets had apparently made their way from her eyes to leave faint stains. She hadn’t meant to damage the material, formerly so crisp, reminding her of Lucifer’s meticulous appearance. Still, she had. It had only been a week. What would be left after a month? A year?

Abruptly, it felt as if her chest was being compressed, dread and panic warring within her breast. Her breaths became gasps, tears leaking unbidden from the corners of her eyes. The weight on her chest only seemed to intensify, and as her fingertips began to tingle, she distantly realized she was hyperventilating. Her heart was a fierce staccato in her ears; the roar of pulsation and flow quickly overwhelming her other senses. Chloe felt so terrified and alone in that moment that the entirety of existence seemed to narrow down to her, isolated and abandoned on her bed, an incomprehensible distance from the only being that could pull her from this yawning maw of despondency and desperation.

As the image of Lucifer flashed into the forefront of her mind, the crushing force holding her heaving ribcage captive seemed to release a bit of its grip. She took deep, greedy breaths while concentrating on him; the more her mental picture came into focus, the easier it was to inhale. After what felt like hours, her heart had returned to its normal quiet rhythm, and her breathing was even and unburdened. Sitting up, wincing at the feel of dried sweat pulling unpleasantly at her skin, Chloe reached for her phone and typed out a quick text to Linda. Tomorrow, she’d open that drawer, but she really didn’t want to be alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK! That angst-filled balloon has been popped. The next chapter should be much more uplifting. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and encouraging comments. I really didn't expect such a warm response.


	3. The Devil’s Therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linda arrives, more feels are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat - Your proofing comments sustain me.

Linda appeared at her door bright and early the next morning, an understanding smile on her face and a box of lemon bars under her arm. Chloe had just said goodbye to Dan and Trixie not five minutes prior. She had a sneaking suspicion that the astute doctor had been watching for a while, waiting for the two to leave. Beckoning Linda inside, Chloe hoped she didn’t look quite as bad as she felt. She knew the doctor had a young infant and fairly clueless angel to contend with at home. Despite that, the other woman looked as put together as ever – a feat Chloe knew she hadn’t accomplished for months after Trixie was born.

“Chloe! I was so glad to hear from you!” Linda greeted warmly. “I hoped you’d reach out when you were ready.” Setting the lemon bars on the kitchen counter, the woman turned to face Chloe and smiled kindly. “Your message didn’t say much – how are you?”

Chloe wasn’t sure how to respond to her friend. Chewing her bottom lip nervously and fussing with the hem of her long shirt sleeves, she tried to answer in an even voice. “I, uh, I’ve been better – obviously.” Frustrated with her own inability to communicate, she pressed on. “I mean, I’m handling it... I think? It’s just-” her voice caught, “It’s just so _hard_. Lucifer’s gone and I love him, I finally said it, and he _said_ he loves me, but he’s still gone and I can’t-” This time, a broken gasp of a sob obstructed her words. Unable to continue, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch Linda’s reaction to her weakness. After a moment, she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.

“Woah,” Linda breathed, squeezing Chloe’s shoulder reassuringly. “That’s a big deal. A _huge_ deal. Come on, let’s sit.” She gently led Chloe to the couch, taking a seat beside her. “I’m sorry. If I had known, I would have reached out to you earlier.”

“No, no, really, I needed some time,” Chloe replied, sniffling and wiping the tears roughly from her cheeks. “You’ve got Charlie to take care of, and I had Trixie to keep me busy. It’s just that Lucifer left me this flash drive, and he mentioned financials and recordings in his note and I- I don’t think I can do it alone, Linda.”

The doctor nodded reassuringly. “I understand. To be honest, I’ve been curious about what he said to you.” She pulled out a white card with familiar black lettering from her inside coat pocket. “As Lucifer would say, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

Chloe laughed, relief flooding her chest as she stood and retrieved her own note from the bedroom. She had someone to share this feeling of utter loss with – someone who knew Lucifer, who would understand what she meant when she said she missed the way his eyes would flick skyward when being particularly blasphemous, or how his tongue would trace the inside of his cheek when an exceptionally lascivious thought gripped him. Why had she been so convinced she was alone in this, again?

With a tentative smile, Chloe returned to her seat next to Linda and gently traded cards with her.

\---

_Doctor,_

_I know my modus operandi is normally to disappear without warning, but as I don’t suspect I’ll be able to return this time I thought it might be best to leave a few words. _

_I apologize for the hardships you’ve experienced on my behalf. Between being attacked by the Goddess of all Creation and having your half-angel spawn kidnapped by body-snatching demons, I suspect you’ve thought better of our association countless times. Rest assured – I’m returning to Hell to keep the demons at bay. For Charlie, for Chloe. Well, for you all, I suppose. Rather unjust, isn’t it? The Devil finally puts humans before himself, and I get an eternity of hellfire as a reward. Dad must be loving this._

_Well regardless; you’ve been a good friend to me, Doctor. Better than I deserve, I can tell you that much. Thank you, truly. I’ve wired some funds to your account, and I give you agency to share your experiences and our discussions as you will. Doctor-Patient confidentiality be damned, as it were. Perhaps a book? “The Devil’s Therapist” has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? There could even be a movie adaptation! I like that fellow Tom Hiddleston – He’d make a good me, you must admit. _

_Apologies – I’ve wandered. I’ve left the recordings from our little “experiment” with the Detective. I thought you might like that. Unless I’ve gotten it wrong again. I never can tell. I haven’t had the chance to go through them, mind you. This all happened in a bit of a rush. Do please check on her, when you have the time. She likes lemon bars._

_L_

\---

The letter was so full of _Luciferness_ that Chloe couldn’t help but smile fondly as she read. She found herself glad, if a bit jealous, that Linda had been there for him. A sharp pain glanced through her heart at that. Linda was there for him when Chloe hadn’t been. Would Lucifer have opened up to her sooner if she’d handled everything better – _been_ better? Chloe was drawn out of her self-deprecating thoughts by a tissue being waved in front of her face. Confusion blossomed for a moment before she became aware of the cool wetness on her cheeks. She accepted the offered tissue with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I thought I’d be more together.”

“Nonsense,” Linda countered, wiping a tear from her own cheek before setting Chloe’s card on the coffee table. “It took three years for you two to finally – _finally_ – admit your feelings to each other. You can’t expect yourself to just forget.”

Chloe took a deep breath, setting Linda’s card next to hers. “Thank you. Not just for coming over. For being there for him. I didn’t handle any of this well, I could’ve-”

Linda held up her hands, shaking her head forcefully. “Don’t you do that, Chloe. You’ve done the best you could. Period. We all have, Lucifer included.” The doctor sighed, leaning back. “Hindsight is a curse. Humanity wasn’t meant to handle Divinity; at least, that’s what I’ve been told _countless_ times. The way I see it, though, is that if the man with the record of ‘Longest Held Grudge’ can forgive us, who are we to not forgive ourselves?”

Chloe nodded meekly, vulnerability and doubt snaking its way across her features. “Did he? Forgive me, I mean.”

“Of course he did, Chloe,” Linda responded instantly, patting Chloe’s knee. “He really did change from the man – Devil – we first met.” She gasped, causing Chloe to jump slightly. “But you don’t have to take my word for it! Where are those videos? I didn’t think he’d kept up with them, honestly. That man has the attention span of a goldfish.”

They both chuckled, fondness for him overwhelming any pangs of heartache. Chloe stood and made her way over to the kitchen drawer. She retrieved the thumb drive almost reverently before returning to Linda. “I didn’t want to do this alone. Will you… will you be able to stay? I know Charlie is waiting.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about him. Amenadiel has a fridge bursting with breast milk, and I was really in need of some adult non-divine company.”

Chloe plugged the drive into her computer, the whir of the laptop’s fan as it booted filling the silence between them. She was anxious again and sought to distract herself with conversation. “What are these, anyway? The recordings. They were your idea?”

“Yes, well, he was struggling with all of these emotions that he’d never experienced before, you know. You can’t really _teach_ someone human emotions. I’d tell him he was jealous, he’d say, ‘The Devil doesn’t get jealous, Doctor’ and move on.”

“And I thought _I_ was frustrated with him.”

“Right!?” Linda was thoughtful for a moment. “I could tell there were some things he wasn’t comfortable talking with me about, but _those_ were the things he _needed_ to talk about. So, I suggested he get a camera and just record whatever he felt like saying or playing. The intent was to convince him to review the content together later but…” she trailed off, a small frown creasing her lips. “Well, nothing ever went according to plan for Lucifer.”

Chloe had opened the flash drive’s directory as Linda talked, and now they both leaned forward to get a better view of the contents. Lucifer had been meticulously organized, and his files reflected that. The ‘Properties’ folder then had sub-folders divided by Country, and then sub-sub-folders split by State or Province. ‘Accounts’, ‘Lux’, and ‘Vehicles’ were all catalogued in similar fashion. Only ‘Diabolus Experimentum’ had no organizational tree. He really must have been in a hurry, Chloe surmised.

With no small amount of trepidation, Chloe double-clicked the file. Thumbnails of Lucifer filled the screen. Different outfits, different expressions, different moments frozen in time. All of him. The video names weren’t changed from the default; the only order apparent being the date each was taken. Their lengths varied; some were thirty seconds, others were thirty minutes. Chloe only hesitated briefly before selecting the very first. She turned the volume up and shared a look with Linda. _Here we go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm ready to dive into these videos, aren't you?
> 
> Thank you for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! Every single one is appreciated.


	4. Pièce de Résistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Linda watch the first video, which takes place between S1E8 "Et tu, Doctor" and S1E9 "A Priest Walks into a Bar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hit 100 Kudos, so am posting a day early to celebrate. Thank you so much!

The video began a dark blur, but the camera was quickly pulled away from what had been an extreme close-up of Lucifer’s dark navy shirt.

_“Ah! There we are!”_ he exclaimed, flashing a bright smile at the camera while still fussing with it. He looked somehow younger, which was silly as the Devil doesn’t age. Still, Chloe couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a different Lucifer than the one that had professed his love to her on the balcony a week prior.

_“Let no one say the Devil isn’t with the times. Technological marvels be damned!”_ The view tipped, blurring again as he adjusted it. After a few more jarring movements he stepped back, coming into full view after assumedly affixing the camera to a stand. The camera angle afforded a good view of his Steinway, with a bit of the bar behind it.

Lucifer paced away, straightening his attire compulsively before rolling up his sleeves in practiced motions. His shirt was tucked into black slacks, but his Louboutin’s had been forgone for bare feet. For some reason, this made Chloe’s heart clench; the normalcy of that detail struck sharp within her breast. With a flourish, Lucifer turned back towards the camera.

_“Well then, shall we get started? This is Lucifer Morningstar, following Doctor’s orders like a good Devil.”_ He slid onto the piano’s bench with practiced grace, making minute shifts to get comfortable as he considered the keys in front of him. In that moment, he reminded Chloe of an old house settling into its foundation; joints flexing, bones finding familiar positions. Once he was perched to his satisfaction, he winked towards the camera.

_“I do hope this is a good angle. Well, with me, they all are, aren’t they?”_ He pulled something small from his pocket, and the camera zoomed in and out a few times. Content with the results, he tucked the remote away.

_“Right. Here we go, then.”_

Lucifer closed his eyes for an instant, letting his fingers spread across the keys. After a few moments he began playing, but it seemed he hadn’t decided on a song yet. A smattering of melodies tumbled forth, blending into each other as he picked up and dropped off where he liked. After a minute of this routine, Lucifer’s eyes sprang open with a familiar mischievous glint, gaze darting to the camera filled with devilish delight. Beaming, he focused on his hands, pulling them from whatever notes they’d been about to strike and transitioning evenly to an upbeat melody that seemed familiar to his two-woman audience. Lucifer took a deep breath, shooting a sly look towards the camera, before belting out-

_“Shakira, Shakira!” _

The video paused, Chloe’s hand unconsciously halting the scene’s progression with a click. Both Chloe and Linda sat completely still, their shocked silence unbroken for several long breaths. Linda was the first to recover.

“You… you… jerk!” she exclaimed, rousing Chloe from her own astonishment.

“Linda is that… _Hips Don’t Lie_??” Chloe couldn’t hold back her laughter. She broke into a fit of giggles while the exasperated doctor stood, gesticulating wildly with frustration.

“That... that man! I never… I can’t believe…” Words failing her, Linda plopped back down on the cushion next to where Chloe was gasping for air, pushing her glasses up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Nope, that’s a lie. I completely believe this.” She joined in on the laughter then, and it was several minutes before they’d composed themselves enough to continue the video. Chloe rewound a few seconds before hitting Play.

_“Shakira, Shakira!” _

Lucifer’s hands darted over the keys as he sang. Honestly, he did an elegant job of adapting the song to the piano. His smooth voice sounded a bit too impressed with himself, however. His arrogant tone altered the meaning of the lyrics somehow into something even more lewd, sinful suggestion dripping off the syllables that slid from his lips.

_“You know my hips don't lie_

_And I'm starting to feel it's right_

_All the attraction, the tension_

_Don't you see, baby, this is perfection?”_

Ever the showman, he continued sneaking glances at the camera intermittently, visibly moving his hips to the lyrics. Chloe rolled her eyes, though even she had to admit his performance was endearing.

_“Oh, baby, when you talk like that_

_You know you got me hypnotized_

_So be wise and keep on_

_Reading the signs of my body.”_

Despite the vigor with which he initially threw himself into his performance, about halfway into the song Lucifer seemed to forget his reason for playing in the first place. He forwent Wyclef’s lyrics, instead focusing on the chords. Chloe noticed the moment his concentration shifted from the camera to the music – he no longer threw those impish glances towards them and his posture relaxed. He was enjoying himself, she realized. The notes were coming faster, and he seemed to be pushing himself to make it more complex. Not for the camera, but for himself. He always did enjoy a challenge, didn’t he?

Chloe had always enjoyed watching him play. The sight of his forearms flexing elegantly coupled with the skilled rhythm of his movements was captivating. The few times she’d observed him playing without his notice always left her somewhat awed. He seemed so open, so unfettered; the devilish playboy mask slipping away to reveal an earnest man simply enjoying the moment. His expressions were refreshingly free. Even now, the slight frown of concentration that creased his lips was enthralling.

Too soon, the song was over. Lucifer sat still as the final notes ebbed into the air, eyes unfocused and hands hovering over the keys. He took a deep breath and then turned his attention back towards the camera. His smile was more uncertain now, as if he was questioning how he’d performed.

_“I’m not quite sure what we’ve accomplished, I’m afraid, but a deal’s a deal,”_ he easily quipped. The bench creaked as he stood and reached into his pants pocket. Moments later, the video ended.

~v~v~v~

Linda hummed thoughtfully, tilting her eyes towards the ceiling. “Well, it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind…”

Chloe nodded her agreement, closing the media player and navigating to the next thumbnail. It was dated a week after the first. “Definitely not what I was expecting.” She tapped her fingers thoughtfully against her lips for a moment before standing. “I’m going to hook this up to the TV. I don’t want to be huddled over this small screen, and my TV has better speakers.”

Linda grabbed Chloe’s sleeve before she could get too far. “Are you okay, Chloe? It’s not easy, seeing him digitally yet knowing that he’s not here physically.”

Chloe nodded, biting her lip. “You’re right, it’s not easy. But I want to know more, Linda. I need to know _him_ more.” The ‘detective’ part of her brain was searching for answers, putting together the puzzle that was Lucifer. Once she had the full picture, maybe she would know how to bring him back.

The doctor released her, letting her gather the HDMI cord to link the laptop to the TV. “Well then, let’s buckle up. If I remember correctly, this is a very bumpy ride.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hips Don’t Lie by Piano Project - https://youtu.be/JkPJvdOdDVk
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed! Thank you again for all of the Kudos and encouraging comments. You all are the best!


	5. Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Linda watch the second video, which takes place at the end of S1E9 "A Priest Walks into a Bar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the Angst Break. Now, let's bash our hearts some more.
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat, who suffers through my writing despite never having watched a single episode.

While Chloe linked the devices, Linda made her way to the kitchen, returning with the lemon bars. Though Chloe was thankful for her friend’s thoughtfulness, she couldn’t bring herself to eat any. How many times had Lucifer brought her lemon bars with her coffee? Feeling the now familiar burn of impending tears, she did her best to concentrate on pulling up the next video to stave off another embarrassing breakdown.

The TV screen filled with the familiar sight of Lucifer’s penthouse, although this time it was apparent that the scene was recorded at night. The background was swathed in shadows, though the piano was lit by the soft glow of the bar and the low golden penthouse lighting. Lucifer wasn’t immediately visible, but when he came around from the bar with whiskey glass in hand, Chloe’s heart dropped to her stomach.

The blood spattering his disheveled light grey dress shirt was achingly familiar, and she was teleported to that moment in time years ago. His shirt was halfway untucked, with crimson staining the midsection and trailing up his sleeves. He came further into focus as he reached the piano and set the whiskey glass atop it, and Chloe almost had to turn away. He looked so completely _lost_. His hand reached into his pocket, and she was afraid for a moment that he was going to turn the recording off, but he came away with his cigarette case instead, absently flipping the lid open and closed a few times while he gazed unseeing at some point past the camera’s view.

Lucifer’s face was fluctuating between emotions at a mystifying pace. One moment, Chloe would see his jaw clench with rage, eyes flinty and vengeful as a snarl tore from his throat that reminded her that he wasn’t human at all; in the next, his brows would furrow, lips trembling in a show of such abject and outright sorrow that Chloe’s breath caught in her throat even as he let out a shaky breath. She’d known he’d put on a brave face for her that day, but she hadn’t realized the true depth of his inner turmoil. Mercifully, before Chloe was forced to look away from the undisguised heartache before her lest she start sobbing anew, Lucifer spoke.

“_I… I suppose I should’ve turned this bloody thing on five minutes ago, ay?_” A humorless chuckle escaped his lips as he began to pace, occasionally slipping out of the camera’s view. His movements were restless, uneven. “_Now here I am, all raved out. Bit of an early finish, if you ask me._” He reached into his pocket but came up short, instead rounding on the camera. “_And I can’t even have a bloody cigarette because I’ve gone and chucked my lighter off the balcony! Classic!_” He attempted to laugh but it sounded forced, broken. The pacing resumed.

“_Frank was a priest, for Dad’s sake! The Devil shouldn’t be bothered by what happens to a priest unless he’s the type to get a bit too close to the altar boys. Yet here I am, carrying on…_” Lucifer trailed off as his eyes landed on his own hand, dried blood visible even in the low light. He flexed his digits, lost in thought. After a few long moments he inhaled sharply through his nose, snapping back to the present.

“_Doctor Linda… you’d say, ‘How does this make you feel, Lucifer?’ Well, I feel right terrible!_” Facing the camera, he hit himself on the chest multiple times in emphasis, the dull hollow sound echoing throughout the room. “_If a fat man sitting on my chest is jealousy, hm? Then what is this- this **emptiness**?_” He spat the word out, grabbing the whiskey and taking a deep pull. “_It’s like all of the nothingness between the stars has decided to congregate in my sternum. Bloody miserable, it is._”

Setting the glass down roughly, Lucifer finally slumped onto the bench. He looked worn, defeated. “_It’s all terribly unjust, isn’t it? How do you humans stand it__?_”

Lucifer seemed to drift in thought again, his fingers skimming over the tops of the keys in front of him without playing a note. He hummed thoughtfully to himself before speaking again. “_Well, Frank, I can’t say it doesn’t still make me want to impale myself, but I suppose I can suffer through it one more time, ay?_”

The first gentle notes of ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ rang out, and that’s when Chloe couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The image he made was truly heartrending; his bloody hands contrasted grimly against the white of the keys while the lost look had returned to his face, his mind once more drifting. He absently swayed to the tune, and Chloe watched his eyes well with unshed tears multiple times before he blinked them away. Every so often his gaze would lock on the ceiling, his expression turning caustic and full of contempt before eyes and features fell to forlorn misery once more.

Suddenly, Chloe herself came into view behind him. She remembered this part very well, though seeing it from a different angle was somewhat unsettling. It took him a moment to notice her there, but the shock on his face when he did was priceless. She greeted him before taking a seat, his posture now stiff and uncomfortable as he shifted to make room for her on the bench. He looked adorably bewildered but, much to Chloe’s disappointment, she saw his hand slide into his pocket and the video ended before he said a word.

~v~v~v~

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Chloe chuckled dryly, snagging a tissue from the box on the table and blowing her nose. Linda offered her a watery smile.

“We can stop whenever you want, Chloe. I don’t want you to feel forced to watch these just because I’m here.”

“No, no,” Chloe shook her head, “I just mean, I thought I was cried out.” She paused to rub her swollen eyes, grimacing. “It’s going to look like I’ve joined an underground fighting ring soon.”

Linda laughed, patting Chloe gently on the arm. “Well, if anyone asks, I’ll corroborate your fighting story.”

“Great. Thank you _so_ much,” Chloe replied sarcastically, though she couldn’t help the smile that accompanied her words. They settled into a brief comfortable silence.

“What happened next?” Linda asked, gesturing towards the television when Chloe shot her a questioning look. “After he shut the camera off. What happened?”

Chloe didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “You mean, he didn’t tell you?”

It was Linda’s turn to shake her head. “Father Frank’s death was especially devastating to Lucifer. I didn’t understand the full scope of his grief at the time – I still hadn’t accepted that his metaphors weren’t _actually_ metaphors. When I asked him about it at our next session, he briefly mentioned that the priest’s death was yet another example of his Father’s callousness.” She sighed, tapping her fingers against her cheekbone. “I couldn’t understand why he thought his father was responsible. I didn’t know that his father was _The_ Father!”

Linda shifted, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch with a bit of unnecessary force. Chloe apparently wasn’t the only one frustrated with her past behavior. After a moment of strained silence broken only by a heavy sigh, the doctor continued, albeit more reserved than before. “He didn’t know how to grieve for someone else, and I failed to help him through that. I’m glad you were there.”

Chloe bit her bottom lip, looking away. “I didn’t do much. He just… he seemed so sad. I didn’t want him to be alone, so I went over to remind him that he had a friend. We didn’t really talk; we played the piano together before I gave up and just listened to him play. He was… confused when I showed up, at first, like he didn’t know what to expect.”

“He didn’t,” Linda offered a gentle smile, “Friendship was basically a foreign concept to him when all this started. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to associate with him outside of business partners or bedfellows.”

Chloe snorted despite the melancholic mood. “That’s one way to describe his _companions_, I guess.”

“And then here you come, Detective Chloe Decker, content to simply sit by his side if only to make him feel a little less alone.” Linda quickly brushed an unwelcome tear from her cheek before leaning forward and taking both of Chloe’s hands in her own. “You did good, OK? I want you to know that.” Chloe nodded, uncomfortable with the praise she felt was wholly undeserved. Her eyes wandered over the television screen in search of distraction.

Linda caught on, gently dropping Chloe’s hands and clearing her throat before speaking. “Well, are you up for another? I won’t blame you if you’re not. Who knew Shakira would be the high point so far?” The doctor’s teasing tone effectively lightened the mood, and Chloe navigated to the next video with an _almost_ steady hand. The thumbnail was a blur, but she thought that pale indistinct shape kind of looked like a woman. A very _naked_ woman.

Chloe pressed play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door – performed by Nazareno Aversa  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIHaBLz1NYM
> 
> Can you guess what's next? ;)
> 
> Thank you for the feedback and kudos! You all are so supportive, even when I think I suck. I couldn't keep writing without you!


	6. Five-Star Hellhole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Chloe comes to play, between S1E10 "Pops" and S1E11 "St. Lucifer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We needed a fun chapter, right?
> 
> **PLEASE NOTE: I've upped the rating to M to give me a bit more freedom. If anything is going to get terribly graphic I'll mark it again, though.
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat

The video started with a shot of Lucifer sitting on the piano bench, but instead of facing the keyboard his legs were off to the side and angled towards the camera. His penthouse was once again dim, the glow from the bar casting the majority of his features in shadow. Though his three-piece suit and meticulously styled hair made it seem like he was ready for a night out, Chloe noticed that he looked a bit frazzled. His brow creased in a way that she knew betrayed his uncertainty, and as he leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, eyes darting towards a point off-screen intermittently, Chloe found herself leaning forward in her own seat as well.

_“Well, this is quite unexpected, isn’t it?”_ he whispered, fidgeting with his cufflinks. The rough, near raspy quality his voice acquired left Chloe briefly flustered; it was all too easy to imagine him speaking softly to her in that tone during a more intimate moment, accompanied by hushed breaths and the slide of skin against skin. She had barely recovered when he started talking again. _“I fear I am absolutely at a loss. There I was, about to go have a bit of rumpy pumpy __with the Brittany’s, and now here I am…”_

He looked off-screen once more as he trailed off, and despite his supposed irritation Chloe saw his expression soften minutely. She felt her chest constrict sorely; who was there, in his home, eliciting such a tender reaction from him? Did she even want to know? She considered stopping the video, but Lucifer chose that moment to continue, effectively postponing any action she might have taken.

_“It’s not that she wasn’t willing, mind you, she was. Tipsy, sure, but not rat-arsed __– at least, not until she downed half that decanter of Auchentoshan. Still, instead of rising to the occasion I decided to consider the repercussions__. How completely un-Devilish of me, ay?”_ Lucifer ran a hand through his hair in irritation before taking off his jacket in a practiced shrug. He laid it on the bench before beginning to unbutton his vest, revealing more of his mulberry shirt. _“She even said it herself! ‘You just take what you want,’ she said. And it’s true! Why be bothered with the consequences when I’m the bloody Devil! I’ll be the monster in this fable regardless.”_ Finished with his vest, he left it on but open and began to remove his cufflinks.

A muffled snort came from somewhere in the dark room. Lucifer froze, eyes darting towards the far end of the suite. After a long moment he continued, voice much softer than before. _“And yet… __yet I can’t bring myself to regret it. Felt quite good, actually. Is this why you humans go around do-gooding and such? For this feeling of… well, it reminds me a bit of flight, I suppose. Of the rush before spreading your wings.”_ He hummed to himself thoughtfully, setting the cufflinks on the piano top. _“That’s not a terribly human emotion though, is it, flying? I wonder-”_

Lucifer’s speech was interrupted by a much louder snort that turned into a mumbled, feminine _“-cifer?”_

_“Bollocks,”_ he muttered before standing, apparently so his guest could see him from her position. _“Yes, dear, right here.”_

_“Luuciferr, c’mere!”_ the woman whined. Lucifer remained rooted to the spot, though he shifted uncomfortably. Chloe watched the scene unfold with a rapt eye. Something about this situation tugged at the back of her mind, a blend of déjà vu and familiarity dancing just beyond her grasp. There was a commotion off-screen which implied flailing and fabric, culminating in a loud thump followed by a pained groan.

Lucifer seemed at a loss, though his dramatic sigh was flavored with fondness by the slight upturn of his lips. _“It’s a blanket, darling, not an assailant.”_ After a bit more fumbling from his guest, he glanced over at the camera, apparently remembering it was on. Taking a few steps towards the device, he reached around to presumably turn it off.

Chloe was taken aback by the swift wave of disappointment that washed over her. However, before the screen could cut to black, a red and black blur crashed into his side, knocking the wind out of him with a grunt as they toppled to the ground. The camera shook momentarily, a casualty of the impact, before settling at an angle that afforded a bit wider view of the room. The woman crawled shakily into focus, laughing even as she faltered, and Chloe gasped.

“No, no, nono, no. No.” she mumbled in denial, staring at _herself_ on the TV. She remembered that outfit, red and black plaid with tight black jeans. She also remembered waking up the next morning with considerably less on. “Please tell me this isn’t the Drunk Chloe episode,” she muttered feebly. Linda snorted from her spot beside her.

Drunk Chloe maneuvered one leg up before grabbing her leather boot and tugging fruitlessly. The zipper on the side was apparently too complex a concept for her inebriated faculties. She looked like an intoxicated turtle on her back, wobbling from side to side while pulling vigorously at the footwear.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was once again standing, though now he was straightening his attire somewhat indignantly. His crisp intent was lost considerably, with his open vest and loose sleeves. When he found that she couldn’t care less for his irritation, he gave up. Instead, he reached out for her boot and lowered the zipper in a smooth motion before slipping it off her foot. When she failed to do more than struggle to grab the other boot, Lucifer sighed. _“Come now, Detective, let me help you with the other.”_ She giggled but obeyed, and once the boots were off, she took the hand Lucifer primly offered.

Chloe couldn’t tear her eyes from the screen. Drunk Chloe stumbled against Lucifer as she stood, her free hand bracing against his side as her cheek collided with his chest. He was prepared for her this time, however, and caught her easily with a hand on her shoulder. _“Alright, Detective, let’s get you in bed, shall we?” _Chloe expected to see his trademark leer at the end of his suggestion, but he only offered a gentle, beseeching smile. 

To Chloe’s horror, Drunk Chloe apparently took his innocent suggestion as anything but. She nuzzled her face into his chest while stroking his side with her free hand. Lucifer attempted to release her and step back, but she resolutely followed. _“C’monnn, Luce__,”_ she mumbled, reaching for his belt. Lucifer sought to retreat further, but the piano bench blocked his path. Grabbing one of her wrists in a firm hold, he twisted to push the bench out of the way. His distraction provided an opening that Drunk Chloe couldn’t pass up, and she resolutely grabbed his crotch with her free hand.

Linda broke into a coughing fit, desperately trying to hide her laughter. Chloe groaned, watching Lucifer tense up and sputter while trying to extricate himself from Drunk Chloe’s grasp. In a desperate attempt to dislodge her, he grabbed his discarded jacket from the piano bench and threw it over her head. Surprisingly, this worked. While Drunk Chloe struggled against the fabric, Lucifer hurriedly positioned himself so that the piano was between them.

After battling the jacket into submission, Drunk Chloe threw it away with a huff. Seeing Lucifer so far away, she scrunched her face into a pout and whined. _“Luccceee, come hereee. I want you.”_

Lucifer was eyeing her like a rabbit might a lion; eyes narrowed, taking in every movement of his assailant. _“‘fraid it’s not a good time, my dear. Rain check?”_

When Drunk Chloe started to make her way around the piano, Lucifer promptly darted the other way. They continued like this for a time, locked in a strange game of ‘Ring Around the Piano’, before Drunk Chloe gave up with a pant of tipsy exasperation. Breathing heavily, she started tugging on her top. Before Lucifer could react, Drunk Chloe flung her shirt over her head and tossed it in the general direction of the bar. Apparently pleased with herself, she grinned brazenly towards her flabbergasted partner before shouting, _“It’s too hot in this five-star hellhole! Leett’ss _get naked, Lucifer___.”_

Chloe was absolutely horrified, watching the pandemonium unfold with eyes wide and mouth agape. Linda was no longer trying to hide her mirth, and she didn’t blame the doctor. The whole situation was absurd.

Lucifer was similarly taken aback, frozen in place on his side of the piano and looking thoroughly scandalized. He only seemed to snap out of his shock when Drunk Chloe began fumbling to unbutton her jeans. _“N-now Detective! There’s no need for that! I’ll turn the thermostat down if you’re warm.”_ When she didn’t stop in her attempts to remove her pants, he took a tentative step towards her. It appeared he was still unwilling to get too close after what happened previously.

With pants successfully unfastened, Drunk Chloe paused only briefly before crawling gracelessly on top of the piano. Lucifer’s previously forgotten cufflinks went skittering across the smooth surface before clattering to the floor. She rolled over on her back, stretching out temporarily, before beginning to shimmy out of her tight jeans. Lucifer crossed his arms in front of himself before pinching the bridge of his nose. _“Really, Detective…”_

Drunk Chloe made surprisingly quick work of her jeans, letting them drop to the floor before toeing off her socks. By the time Lucifer opened his eyes again she was spread out across the piano’s surface languorously, clad in nothing but her light blue panties and navy bra, golden hair fanned out around her.

Chloe watched as Lucifer inhaled sharply, a mix of awe and bewilderment flying across his normally guarded features. To her own amazement, a blush rose swiftly on his cheeks before he cleared his throat. _“Well, darling, I can’t say you don’t look lovely, but I think it’s time we get you tucked in, hm?”_ He tried to usher Drunk Chloe off the instrument, arms swinging wide as one would herd a wayward calf, but she had other ideas.

Sitting up, she reached for him, snagging his wrist and pulling him closer. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist, but he was leaning too far away from her for that exact reason. She settled with running her foot down from his hip to his knee. _“How ‘bout you carry me, Mr. Morningstar?”_ she asked salaciously.

Lucifer considered her for a moment, analytical eyes briefly scanning over her frame. _“Very well, Detective, you’ve asked for it.”_

In a blur of motion, he ducked gracefully out of her grip before leaning forward and scooping her up in his arms. Before Drunk Chloe could react, he had her tossed over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, one arm locked over her legs just above her knees to keep her steady. She squealed and kicked, but Lucifer paid her no mind as he started to make his way towards the bedroom. Drunk Chloe went limp after a moment, head dropping and face pressing into the back of his shirt.

To Chloe’s amazement, he kept his hands to himself, only touching her as much as was necessary to secure her. At least, he did until Drunk Chloe reached down and grabbed his ass. With few options, he swatted her on the behind in retaliation as he turned the corner and escaped from the camera’s view. _“Hands to yourself, Detective!”_ he chided.

Drunk Chloe’s giggles carried from the bedroom but were interrupted by a short shriek as it sounded like she was dumped unceremoniously on the bed. There was some rustling and muted mumbling before Lucifer reappeared, looking much more disheveled than a few moments prior. His vest was now missing, shirt had come partially untucked, and his hair looked like it had been purposefully ruffled.

_“You stay in that bed, Detective! If I catch you one foot out, I’ll... well, I’ll have Mazikeen come up here and deal with you. How’s that sound? Not too pleasant, hm?”_ Though his words were less than intimidating, to say the least, they appeared to have the desired effect. After a few seconds of sternly staring into the dark bedroom, Lucifer turned away, apparently satisfied with her compliance.

_“Absolutely arse over elbow, she is,”_ he muttered to himself while pacing around the piano, running his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to restore order to his appearance. He’d only made it a few steps before a clatter came from the direction of the bedroom. He rushed back to peer around the corner. Eyes going impossibly wide, he took an involuntary step away from whatever he saw. _“Detective, is that your **brassiere** hanging from my lamp__?” _

Chloe buried her face in her hands as Linda broke into a fresh bout of laughter beside her. After a few seconds, she rallied through her mortification and chanced a peek back at the screen.

Lucifer was glaring into the bedroom with all the warning he could muster in such a ludicrous situation. _“Don’t. You. Dare.”_ He enunciated each word, a dangerous undertone threaded through the statement.

A small scrap of light blue fabric flew out of the room, hitting him square in the face before dropping away harmlessly. Lucifer snatched it before it could fall to the ground. _“Well!”_ he exclaimed, thoroughly put out, _“We’ll see how you like waking up without your knickers, shall we?”_ He stalked away, tossing the underwear in the general direction of her discarded pants. As he rounded the piano again, something caught his eye and he huffed loudly.

_“A perfect arse print __on the piano, too.”_ He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began shining the apparently smudged surface. During his labor, Lucifer’s face began to soften from its previously irritated lines until all that remained was a gentle fondness, his eyes taking on a far-away gleam.

_“Like flying, indeed,”_ he murmured affectionately, his voice filled with a certainty that hadn’t been there previously. After a few more seconds of polishing, Lucifer’s aimless gaze fell on the camera. His brow creased as he strode towards it, handkerchief lying forgotten. _“Bloody hell, is this blasted thing still on?”_

The video cut off shortly after.

~v~v~v~

Chloe’s mortification continued long after the clip ended. She’d literally thrown herself at him and then stripped. Sure, he’d told her that’s what she’d done, but there was something very, _very_ different about watching herself do it. Making her feel worse was the fact that Lucifer had been so genuine and damned charming about it. How had he even kept a straight face around her after that debacle?

“Chloe, do you want to talk about it?” Linda’s mirth had been tempered by the other woman’s obvious internal struggle.

“No, no. Thanks, but I just…” Chloe pressed her hands to her burning cheeks in frustration, “I can’t believe he let me off so easy! I’d expect him to go on about this for weeks, months! But he let me off with just a handful of suggestive comments. I think that’s why I thought it couldn’t have been _that_ bad, you know? But it was, Linda. It _was_ that bad. And _so much more_. I mean, you saw it! It was disastrous.”

Linda nodded understandingly, taking a moment before replying. “Well, what I saw was a woman in a vulnerable moment being supported by a man who cares deeply for her. Even if that man was too stubborn to admit it at the time.”

Chloe took a deep breath, willing her probably full-body blush to subside. She allowed a small laugh to slip. “We’ve been pretty stubborn, haven’t we?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Linda countered, continuing when she caught Chloe’s quizzical look. “By the end of these, I suspect you will, though. And I’ll fill in any gaps that are left. He gave me full disclosure rights so I could write ‘The Devil’s Therapist,’ after all.”

Chloe’s laugh came more easily this time. “Is there really enough for a whole book?”

Linda scoffed, “There’s probably enough for a freaking series. If I had a penny for every time he managed to subvert my advice, I’d never have to work again!” The two women shared a fond bout of giggles.

Eventually, Chloe was able to refocus on the screen without feeling like she’d rather crawl in a hole and die. “We might as well keep going, I guess. How much worse can it get?”

Linda nodded in agreement, but as Chloe leaned forward to select the next recording, she missed the brief flash of apprehension that flit across the doctor’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for each kudos, review, and bookmark. 
> 
> This community is awesome!


	7. Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer ponders his intermittent mortality after the events of S1E11 "St. Lucifer." Maze visits and says the wrong thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All!
> 
> Heads Up - I think I will be changing the name next week to "Diabolus Experimentum." My initial plan of quirky, awkward interludes has been overcome by angst and I feel like the current title no longer fits. :)
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat

Lucifer had moved the camera for this video. It now sat on the end of the penthouse bar, offering a view down the expensive surface towards the elevator. The backlight of the liquor display washed warmly over Lucifer, who was standing at the bar with full glass in hand and bottle within arm’s reach. He took a deep drink before setting the glass down and facing the camera more fully. He was in a tuxedo – sans bow tie – and there were three small holes clustered on his chest, marring the otherwise flawless fabric of his black jacket and white shirt.

_“Well, I’ve had a bloody exciting day, haven’t I? Where to even begin?”_ His tone was light, but there was a strain behind it; a nearly imperceptible tension that betrayed itself with twitching lips and tight eyes. As he considered how to start, he reflexively brushed imaginary lint off the front of his tux. _“First, I had that greasy rotter Malcolm come in, hold a gun to me, and tell me that my brother brought him back from the dead for the sole purpose of killing me. Isn’t that a laugh! Talked my way out of that one, traded my Pentecostal coin, nothing terribly eventful.”_

Lucifer reached for his glass and emptied it in one quick swig. _“But then! Then, the demented little wife of our homicide victim comes up for a chat. It was civil until the twit __unloaded three rounds from her .38 point-blank into my sternum__.”_ He rounded on the camera, discarding his glass with a clatter. _“I’ve had a bit of a mortality sitch __recently, you know, ever since the Detective shot me and I bled.”_ He scoffed. _“I mean, really, the Devil bleeding from a human bullet?”_

He ran his hand idly over the holes in his attire – bullet holes, Chloe supplied – before pouring another drink. _“I thought that was it – that I’d been sent back to Hell by a halfwit wench with a tiny gun. Not a terribly Devilish way to go, that.”_ He paced away for a moment, sipping slowly from the replenished glass. _“However, as you can see, the bullets didn’t harm me. And that got me thinking: what has me mortal one moment and immortal the next__?”_

Striding back to the camera, Lucifer downed his glass before leaning in and lowering his voice. _“It’s always been with the Detective, you see. Every time I’m injured by some non-divine instrument, she’s nearby.”_ Setting his empty glass back down, he shrugged his tuxedo jacket off before reaching into his pocket and producing a pocket knife. He left the jacket discarded on the bar and opened the knife. The blade glinted threateningly in the low light.

Lucifer placed his left hand on the bar, clearly visible in front of the camera. _“Observe!”_ he commanded with a sweeping gesture, knife in hand, evoking the impression of a magician about to perform a dangerous trick. Instead, he fisted the blade tightly before slamming the knife down onto his left hand with a resounding thud, the shockwave shaking the camera.

Chloe gasped despite herself. Lucifer grimaced but quickly revealed his hand was unmarked save for a small indent in his skin, nothing more than a ghost of the previous pressure. The knife was a different story; the blade was bent almost comically, looking more like tinfoil than steel. _“As you can see, I’m currently not near the Detective, so __this knife can’t hurt me.” _He tossed it away carelessly. _“But when I went over to the Detective’s house earlier, it sliced right through.”_ Turning his left hand over, he revealed his palm to the camera for the first time. A deep, painful-looking cut dissected his hand, dried blood still discernable though no fresh oozing could be seen.

Lucifer sighed deeply, running his right hand through his hair before leaning heavily against the bar. He looked worn. _“What am I to do now, ay? It’s possible that the Detective could be some nefarious assassin Hell-bent on sending me back to… well, Hell. The other, far more likely possibility is that the Detective is ignorant of her effect on me, innocent collateral damage in this divine family feud, another pawn in Dad’s blasted game.”_

Lucifer’s expression soured considerably, eyes locking on the ceiling in recrimination and lips pursing into a frown. After a moment of no response from the Heavens, Lucifer huffed in resignation and returned his gaze to the bar in front of him. His fingers tapped the marble in the faint suggestion of a piano performance. A few minutes passed in this manner, with Lucifer contemplating silently save for the occasional sigh, eyes unfocused and unblinking. Suddenly his hands paused in their movements and his breath hitched.

_“You know,”_ Lucifer started slowly, mind evidently still turning, _“There’s no proof that the Detective is the only thing that makes me vulnerable.”_ His eyes flicked to the empty glass in front of him before abruptly smashing it with his bare hand. He paused for a breath before cautiously lifting his arm, revealing pulverized glass and unblemished skin. When he spoke next, his voice was rough with frustration. _“Check glass off the list. There must be something else.”_

Chloe watched Lucifer’s eyes rove around the penthouse in search of some other object to try impaling himself with. A sickened feeling had settled high in her stomach, making swallowing a chore as she observed his disgruntled behavior. She could see what he wasn’t saying. It was in the hunch of his shoulders and the subtle tic of his jaw muscles, in his eyes that were just a bit too wide even as his brow creased under the weight of speculation. He was shaken, worried.

A muted ‘ding’ stalled Chloe’s line of thought, refocusing her attention on the events on-screen. The elevator doors slowly opened, cab lighting casting the lone occupant in silhouette. Despite this, it was obvious who she was as she stormed forward, dressed in all black leather with knives at the ready.

_“Lucifer! What’s going on?”_ Maze eyed him suspiciously, taking in the broken glass before hissing venomously, _“Is _she _here?”_

Lucifer pushed himself away from the bar to face his guest, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “_Maze!_” he greeted a bit too cheerily, pausing before adding, “_Is who here?”_

Maze stalked forward a few more steps, eyes sharp and searching. _“Cut the shit, Lucifer. I know the Detective makes you vulnerable. It wasn’t hard to piece together.” _She smiled as Lucifer stiffened, reading something in his expression. _“Well, I wasn’t sure… but now I am,”_ she cooed, setting her knives on the bar before stepping closer.

Chloe couldn’t help the spike of jealousy that pierced through her as Maze smoothed her hands over the planes of Lucifer’s chest. It wasn’t logical – she was well aware they once had a relationship that went beyond the normal ‘friends with benefits’ label. Still, watching the demon snake her arms around his neck with such familiarity, like they belonged there, had Chloe’s previously sickened stomach simmering instead with bitterness.

She was so distracted by her animosity that she missed what Maze said next and was then completely taken off-guard when Lucifer roared and hurled the woman against the far wall, narrowly missing the fragile glass shelves housing his finest alcohol. Linda gasped just before Chloe paused the video. “Sorry, I missed what she said,” Chloe explained, embarrassed by her distraction. She turned the TV volume up before rewinding the video several seconds.

Maze smoothed her hands over the planes of Lucifer’s chest before snaking them around his neck to pull him closer. She leaned close to his ear, red-painted lips parting sensuously before murmuring in a much too sultry tone, _“Just say the word, my King, and I’ll eliminate her.” _

Chloe was the one to gasp this time, though whether it was from Maze’s cruel words or Lucifer’s sudden violent reaction she wasn’t sure. His roar echoed through her mind even after Maze’s body hit the floor with a hard thud. Lucifer stalked towards her, away from the camera, visibly shuddering with barely contained rage. Maze groaned, struggling to stand. Gaining her feet, she took one look at Lucifer before paling considerably. He was almost upon her when she dove towards the bar, desperately reaching for the knives she’d discarded minutes before.

Lucifer whirled and slammed his fist down onto the demon’s back, sending her crashing to the ground with a sickening crack. Without pause, he hoisted her onto the bar top by her throat sending jacket and knives flying, leaning above her as she struggled for breath. That’s when Chloe noticed his eyes. His sclera had gone an impossible black, and where there was normally deep, calming brown there was now bright, burning hellfire.

The flames flared as he held Maze down, a few escaping his eyes to run harmlessly along the tense lines of his face. Lucifer leaned close to her, nearly nose to nose, before a deep snarl ripped from his chest. _“You, Mazikeen of the Lilim, will **not** __touch what is **mine**,”_ he growled out menacingly. His voice resonated strangely, as if it wasn’t coming from a focused point but instead had multiple different origins. Chloe felt goosebumps race along her arms and up her spine, and she was reminded of when Lucifer had ordered the demons back to Hell in the Mayan. He’d unleashed his full rage then, but now, he was clearly holding himself back, tempering his displeasure.

After a moment made heavy by the weight of Lucifer’s glare, he freed Maze with a rough motion. As she gasped for air, chest heaving, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, fists still clenched and shaking. When he released the breath and opened his eyes, they were back to calm brown. Lucifer eventually took a step back to allow Maze room to sit up, which she did. As she swung her legs off the bar, she glared at him incredulously.

_“You would choose that filthy human over me?”_ she spat with hostility, disbelief evident on her face.

Lucifer didn’t respond, remaining stoic, but his demeanor said what his voice did not. _Yes_.

Maze laughed dryly. _“Suit yourself, Lucifer,”_ she remarked as she shoved herself off the bar and walked with a bit of a limp to the elevator, being sure to give him a wide berth. As the doors closed, she offered a final remark. _“You know what they say about playing with fire.”_

Lucifer watched her go stiffly, shoulders tensed for retaliation until after the elevator doors were firmly shut. He turned back towards the camera with a sigh, looking weary. _“Bloody brilliant,”_ he commented dryly, sauntering over to the bar and approaching the device. _“We’ll have to pick this up at another time, I’m afraid. Demons to pacify, vulnerability to sort through, you understand__.”_

The video ended there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> The next chap is a comparatively hefty boi at 3700 words. 
> 
> Thank you again for all of the support. It means the world to me! 
> 
> See you next Tuesday <3


	8. Cherished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Linda discuss the previous recording. The next video, which takes place after S1E13 'Take Me Back to Hell,' leads to some emotional discoveries.
> 
> TW: graphic description of a penis. Is that a trigger?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd as always by juxtaposed_cat
> 
> **Please note that the title has changed from 'All Thumbs' to 'Diabolus Experimentum' to come more in line with the severe angst I cannot escape from.

Chloe was having a difficult time wrangling her emotions after the last video. She felt wholly unsettled, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why. She’d seen Lucifer lash out before; she’d seen him throw people through glass walls and dangle them off balconies. His particular brand of intimidation wasn’t a surprise to her; so, what was this feeling of conflict within her breast? Emotions, unnamed as of yet, pulled her heart in opposite directions with varying strength. An exasperated groan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

“Care to share?” Linda inquired softly. When Chloe met her eyes, she offered a soft, supportive smile.

Though phrased to offer her an out, Chloe knew that she needed to discuss what she was feeling. If she didn’t, she’d end up back in her bed, alone, clutching a crumbling letter. 

“I-,” Chloe cleared her throat when her voice came out hoarse. “I don’t know what I’m feeling, Linda,” she finally got out. “It’s… overwhelming? Like there’s a hurricane of emotions that I can’t hope to grab at. It wasn’t this bad with the other clips – I could always focus and interpret. But this time…” Chloe took a deep breath; a futile attempt to slow the rotation in her mind, “This time I feel like I’m drowning.”

Linda nodded thoughtfully, taking a moment to think before responding. “How did it make you feel, seeing Maze embrace Lucifer like that?”

Chloe huffed with frustration. “I was jealous. I mean, I know that they…” She motioned vaguely instead of completing her sentence. “But seeing it was somehow different. I know I shouldn’t be. I mean, after he showed me and I… I hurt him like that, after everything, I’m here feeling jealous that someone was close to him when I didn’t even…”

Linda raised a hand to pause Chloe’s rant. “You don’t need to justify your feelings, Chloe. What’s important is knowing _why_ you feel this way. Do you know why you feel jealous?”

“Because I love him.” Though Chloe’s response was instant, she took herself off-guard by the sudden clarity the words offered. “I want to have what they had.”

Linda smiled knowingly. “And yet… Lucifer told Maze, in no uncertain terms, that your safety was paramount. He said you were his.”

Chloe nodded, a blush creeping over her cheeks. He’d said the words with such vehemence, such complete conviction. “I should probably be upset, that he was claiming me like some object. I mean, I don’t need him to protect me.” She chewed her bottom lip briefly, thinking back to the scene they’d witnessed. _You will **not** touch what is **mine**._ Warmth spread in her chest, blazing a path outward and leaving Chloe feeling lighter, as if it had burned some of her burdens away. “But… but knowing that he did protect me, that he wanted to… It makes me feel warm. Well, more than warm. Cherished, maybe.”

Chloe met Linda’s gaze uncertainly, expecting a reproach that never came. Instead, Linda nodded her agreement before speaking. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Lucifer cherished you, even back in the early stages of your partnership.”

“But why? I want to know why, Linda. What did I do to deserve this... this loyalty from him? I mean, he and Maze had been together since, well, since before I can even imagine! But he still took my side. I don’t get it.”

“Ah, I see,” Linda leaned forward a bit, “So, Chloe, do you think you deserve to be cherished?”

Chloe sat in frozen silence for a long moment. She hadn’t been expecting that question. Sure, she knew she had good qualities – she was successful at her job, kicked ass at parenting, generally good looking. And that was all well and good when she approached a normal relationship, with a normal guy, like Dan or… well, not Pierce, but the guy she thought Pierce was. Pushing aside the anger and hurt that lanced through her like one of Maze’s blades, Chloe found her answer.

“No,” she stated, mouth suddenly dry. “Not by him. Not after I-” She couldn’t finish. The air in her lungs left her in a flash, leaving her feeling gut-punched. Chloe let her head drop to her hands, feeling unwelcome tears begin escaping once more.

“Chloe, look at me,” Linda urged gently, waiting for Chloe’s eyes to meet hers before continuing. “You made a mistake. That’s all. I remember when I first found out; I made mistakes too.” The doctor made a sour face, presumably remembering her own errors. “Knee-jerk reactions are not logical, they’re instinctual. They’re the product of thousands of years of conditioning; you can’t expect to overcome them immediately.” At Chloe’s skeptical look, Linda continued. “What matters is that you _did_ overcome them. You realized that Lucifer is just the same old Lucifer that you’ve always known. Sure, there are some pretty mind-blowing details surrounding that, like half-angel babies and Goddesses inhabiting humans and wings and…”

Chloe couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her as Linda was derailed from her professional thought process and rerouted to the absurdity that surrounded their Devil. She was relieved, to be honest; knowing that even Linda still struggled with the “big picture” made Chloe feel less like a disappointment. Maybe, _maybe_ she hadn’t screwed everything beyond repair. As soon as that thought surfaced, she felt the frenetic pressure on her heart lessen considerably, a new emotion taking hold instead. _Hope_, she recognized immediately.

Chloe refocused on Linda, who was now talking about… torturing Hitler?

“I asked him, you know, but he wouldn’t say much-”

“Linda!” Chloe interjected a bit forcefully, successfully halting the doctor’s runaway thoughts. “Thank you. You’ve really helped.” Linda raised one eyebrow in a clear display of disbelief, so Chloe clarified. “I mean it. I was feeling so hopeless. You’ve grounded me. Thank you.”

“Well, you’re lucky you have LA’s preeminent Divinity therapist here to help you!” Linda countered genially. “But honestly, we don’t have to continue if you’re not feeling up to it.”

Chloe shook her head, self-doubt clearing from her features like storm clouds carried away by the ocean breeze. “Are you kidding? We’re just getting started.”

~v~v~v~

There was around a three-week gap from the previous video to the next. Chloe had a sinking feeling, remembering the weeks of no contact that followed her vulnerability confession to Lucifer and the subsequent case that had nearly ripped their partnership – and lives – to shreds. The terror she’d felt when Trixie was in danger still clung to her some nights; hopelessness and desperation had carved the encounter into her memory with disturbing clarity.

An involuntary chill made its way down Chloe’s spine, but she pressed Play before she could lose her nerve further. The initial frames were indistinct; an odd crunching slipping from the speakers was the only indication that the video was progressing. The noise was faintly familiar, but Chloe couldn’t place it. As the crunching got louder, Chloe heard a muted ‘_Aha!_’ before the camera was lifted suddenly. It took a moment to auto-adjust, but Lucifer’s face ultimately came into focus.

“_There you are!_” he announced triumphantly, carrying the device with him as he moved about the penthouse. “_Must’ve gotten tossed in the earlier scuffle._” He turned the camera around, inspecting it. When the bar briefly became visible, Chloe gasped. Everything was shattered; nothing remained of the immaculate glass display save for millions of shards glinting in the low light. Lucifer turned the camera back around before she could get a better look.

“_None the worse for wear, it seems. Outstanding. Shall we?_” He quirked his eyebrow before pointing the camera at his couch. Amenadiel looked to be passed out, spread across the cushions chaotically with arms and legs splayed. The crunching sound resumed as Lucifer approached his brother. _He’s walking on broken glass_, Chloe realized distantly.

Lucifer placed the camera, apparently still secured to its stand, so that it overlooked his brother. As he stepped away, he reached into his jacket for something, but whatever he retrieved was obscured as he crouched over Amenadiel’s sleeping form. Lucifer stayed perched over him for several minutes, arm occasionally moving in quick, succinct motions. Finally, he stood, straightening his cufflinks and brushing undetectable dust from his sleeves. With a pleased smile he rounded on the camera, almost gleefully grabbing it to show off his handiwork.

Linda snorted loudly and dove for the mouse to hit Pause. She hastily dug out her cellphone before taking a picture of Amenadiel’s face on screen. “Holy shit! I can’t wait to send this to Maze.” Linda laughed to herself while hurriedly typing out a message. Chloe couldn’t blame the doctor for her reaction. She was torn between exasperation at Lucifer’s ever-childish antics and the absurdly comedic result of his efforts.

Amenadiel looked truly angelic when he slept; however, the thick, veiny dick that had been drawn across his forehead in bold black marker detracted from the heavenly effect somewhat. The shaft spanned almost the entire width of the poor angel’s brow; glans, oversized and somehow menacing, nearly touched one well-kempt eyebrow. Several dainty spurts of Sharpie-outlined ejaculate trailed down his temple to messily land at the corner of his eye. A pair of bulbous, wrinkly, and honestly overly-hairy balls completed the ‘fell asleep at a frat house’ look. Chloe had to admit, the level of detail was genuinely impressive. Shaking her head with a mixture of disbelief and delight, she restarted the video after checking to make sure Linda was ready.

Lucifer admired his handiwork for a moment before moving away from his brother with the camera in tow. The background blurred together and the crunch of glass beneath heel resumed as he relocated – a glimpse of piano here, Italian marble there. Lucifer chatted along the way. _“He deserves it, you know. Interrupted me earlier, allowed that nasty little prat to escape my wrath. And look at all the good that’s done, hm? Oh – and then! I tell him mum’s escaped, and he has the gall to go back to sleep. A small punishment in comparison, I feel.” _He paused, steps hesitating for a half-second before continuing. “_Well, admittedly, he may have passed out because he’s recovering from blood __loss. Still, though_.”

The near rhythmic cadence of Lucifer’s footfalls subsided as he moved away from the main room. Finally, the view righted itself and came to rest in his master bedroom. After taking a moment to adjust the camera’s angle, Lucifer stepped back, glass of scotch in hand, and that’s when Chloe saw the blood for the first time. Crimson saturated the lower front of his dark blue dress shirt, shining wetly from where it was concentrated about his abdomen.

Chloe’s heart sank as her previous fears were confirmed, and her mind immediately recalled his admission in the hangar those years ago. She’d thought Malcolm had killed him. _Oh, he did, yes. I got better._

Lucifer swirled the amber liquid around in its glass, contemplation causing his eyes to look distant. “_I made a deal with Dad_,” he began, emptying his glass in one swift motion. “_Sealed with blood and all, it appears._” He set the empty glass on the nearby nightstand with more force than was necessary, the sharp clack of glass against glass hinting at his internal turmoil.

“_It was the first time I’ve asked Him for anything since – well, since I’ve Fallen, actually. I’ve spent millennia actively attempting to get out from under His thumb, you know._” Lucifer began removing his cufflinks, setting them on the nightstand beside his glass once he was finished. He then shrugged off his jacket and inspected it absently. “_Poor Armani. You were too young, my friend._” He tossed the jacket on the floor, out of sight.

“_I suppose that’s what’s bothering me, then_,” Lucifer mused, untucking his shirt. He grimaced at the feel of the sodden fabric moving across his skin. “_I- well I prayed, you see. It resulted in a deal, but it began as a dying entreaty._” He chuckled, self-derision evident. “_‘I__’ll be the son you always wanted,’ I said, ‘I’ll do as you ask, go where you want me to.’_” Lucifer’s hands that had been unbuttoning his shirt slowed their motions, eventually falling away into clenched fists. His eyes met the camera, and the sincerity that Chloe found there left her flustered.

Lucifer took a shaky breath. “_How am I to explain that, hm? My free will; that which I desired to such an extent that I rebelled and subsequently Fell – In that moment, I was willing to forfeit all I’ve spent eons fighting to attain._” He sighed heavily, the sound weary yet almost wistful. His features were taut as he contemplated this action that defied all reasoning in his mind. Chloe found herself waiting with bated breath on his next words, hands absently wringing the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Linda had leaned forward attentively, gaze studying Lucifer’s troubled features with a practiced eye.

Lucifer shook his head suddenly, perhaps in an attempt to dispel the thoughts that clouded his mind. “_In exchange, all I asked for was_-” He faltered, struggle evident in his voice. “_I just wanted Chloe to be protected_,” he confided finally, remnants of fresh anxieties lending a breathless inflection to his words. “_Whilst I was dying, the agony of a human death shooting through my limbs, the cold grasp of an eternity in Hell that I wouldn’t be able to escape this time snaking its way ‘round my heart – all I could think of was her__._” His shoulders sagged, as if confessing this pivotal detail had taken the last of his strength. Chloe and Linda both gasped and looked at each other, shock evident.

Lucifer’s hands resumed their former endeavor, deftly finishing unbuttoning his shirt. He peeled the ruined fabric off his shoulders and tossed it in the general vicinity of his previously discarded jacket. The blood now stained his skin, contrasting starkly against his pale stomach. To Chloe’s relief, there was no wound to be seen. There was a lot of blood, but she could deal with that. She’d seen blood before, seen him bleed-

Lucifer turned his back to the camera, reaching for a bottle of scotch with a broken neck placed on the dresser, and Chloe’s heart stopped. His back was covered in blood; the crimson fluid spanned his entire torso, from the scars on his shoulder blades to where his hips disappeared into his slacks. _He died_, her mind supplied unhelpfully, wildly. _He died in a pool of blood. He died for me, lying in a puddle of his own blood, suffering and praying to someone he hates and_-

“Chloe!” Linda called, shaking the other woman’s shoulder forcefully with one hand. Chloe came back to herself, to the present. The video had been paused, though by whom she wasn’t sure. She was hyperventilating, she noted belatedly. Her chest was heaving, wheezing gasps burning their way through her. Linda rubbed calming circles on her back, murmuring soothing sentiments in her ear. After a few agonizing minutes, Chloe was able to regain her breath, though her chest still ached with a mix of heartbreak and exertion.

“I-I’m sorry, Linda. I didn’t know…” Chloe paused, biting her lower lip in thought. “I mean, he told me he died, but I didn’t think it meant he was suffering. I didn’t think he’d sacrificed-” She choked on the word, mind reeling. “I thought dying for the Devil was no big deal, you know? Like ‘oops, looks like I’m dead, let me just go right back then,’ not ‘I need to surrender this huge part of me to return.’ Why would - I mean - that’s insane!”

Linda leaned back, studying Chloe’s face. “He willingly returned to Hell for you, Chloe. Is it really such a shock that he’d make a deal with God to save your life?”

Chloe shook her head; whether it was in disbelief or denial was unclear. “It’s not that, it’s…” She found herself at a loss, unable or unwilling to disclose the full reasoning behind her shock. The truth was, she’d always held onto Lucifer’s lifespan as a grounding rod for her feelings. He was a being that had existed before the Earth was born, she was no more than a speck on his timeline. She could never possess all of him, never hold his entire focus. How could any human, when faced with all he’d experienced? Chloe clung to this belief as one would a buoy in a tempest, and until now she’d succeeded in convincing herself that her temporary nature would keep him from committing fully. That, while he loved her, he’d only love her for her lifetime.

The implications of Lucifer’s deal shattered this notion. He was ready to sacrifice his eternity so that she didn’t die at Malcolm’s hands. He’d offered fathomless eons of servitude in exchange for a handful of decades, maybe less. The depth of the love he harbored for her was humbling, terrifying in its raw intensity; how could she ever hope to reciprocate? To be worthy?

The small bubble of hope she’d only just found popped, replaced by a mix of dread and guilt. How long would he suffer, after she was gone? Would he regret ever meeting her? Just the possibility left a sour taste in her mouth, sending the bile churning in her stomach. Chloe reached for the mouse – she needed to know if he regretted the deal, to hear if he lamented his feelings for her even if he hadn’t yet interpreted what exactly those feelings were. Her former self-denigration reared its head again – she just wasn’t worthy of his love. No human was.

Linda didn’t push further, focusing back on the screen after offering Chloe a final sympathetic glance.

~v~v~v~

Lucifer took a drink straight from the broken bottle, foregoing his usual veil of refinement. He turned towards the camera again, mercifully hiding his blood-covered back from view once more. “_So, there I went, back to Hell. It was excruciating, not knowing the Detective’s fate. Without my wings or my coin, I have no quick way to return to the mortal plane, you see_.”

Lucifer’s hands began undoing his belt, and Chloe was jerked from her previous melancholy by the familiar irritation that usually accompanied Lucifer’s public forays into nudity. Granted, he wasn’t in public, but only he would consider getting fully undressed on a video that he might end up showing to his therapist.

“_Suddenly, I found myself at my mother’s door. The only door in Hell with a lock on it – well, a divine lock, chains, I’m fairly certain we incorporated some bolts and padlocks as well._” Lucifer slid his belt from the loops of his slacks, the sound of leather against fabric piercing the air. “_Her door was ajar, her cell empty__. Gave me quite the start, it did. And then poof – I woke up back on Earth__._” 

Lucifer plunged his hands uneasily into his pockets. Without the belt’s support, his pants slid down his trim waist somewhat, revealing a bit more toned yet bloody skin. Chloe’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the garment’s downward path before she caught herself. She snapped her eyes to his face, resolutely refusing to waver even as a faint trail of dark hair teased at her peripheral.

“_Thus, Dad accepted my offer, it appears. Now I just need to find my mother, Goddess of all Creation, who cursed the Earth with plagues last time she visited – preferably prior to her filling the streets with blood._” Lucifer shifted nervously from foot to foot, brows furrowing. “_Though a blood trail would admittedly make it far easier to track her. This is all assuming she doesn’t skip to the chase and attack me outright, of course, seeking revenge against her warden and tormenter of millennia._”

Lucifer removed a hand from his pocket to comb through his hair. His jaw ticked visibly. “_It’s a right cock-up, it is. But, do you know what I’ve realized? Dying was wretched, debasing myself by pleading with my Father for help was deplorable and pathetic; I’d do just about anything to avoid doing either ever again._” His dour expression lightened significantly, giving way to a fond smile that seemed to illuminate his face from within. “_But for the Detective, for Chloe… I’d choose her again, no matter the cost._”

He opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted by a loud beeping. The sound was startling in its suddenness, and Lucifer jerked in surprise along with his audience. He approached the camera swiftly, curiosity cocking his head to one side. The screen was quickly filled with a close-up of his bloody abdomen. “_Bollocks. Low battery._” He pulled away, offering a now forced smile. “_Just as well, I suppose. I need a shower, and the good Doctor made me promise to keep things appropriate._”

The clip ended with a final, angry beep. Chloe glanced at Linda, sorting through all that she’d learned. It was tempting to ask the doctor about the details, to really dig into what he meant and piece together what she knew would happen with what he’d disclosed. However, speculation was wasted when she had more videos to watch. It was better to hear it from him, wasn’t it?

“Next video?” Chloe finally decided to ask, raising a questioning eyebrow towards her friend. Linda nodded, but Chloe noticed the anxious way the doctor pursed her lips and looked away. “Linda, you OK?”

Linda cleared her throat nervously. “Yes, I’m fine,” she replied softly. There was a brief hesitation; a flash of regret. “Lucifer is being very candid, which is, of course, the whole point of this exercise. I am just concerned…” When Chloe’s remorseful gaze locked with hers, she clarified. “I’m not concerned for you, or how you’ll react. You’re handling everything so well, Chloe, really. I’m-” She took a steadying breath. “I remember what is coming; I failed him when he needed me the most, and I’m worried what he’ll have to say about me.” Linda offered a sardonic smile. “See? Even therapists struggle with this shit.”

The laugh they shared this time was guarded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I say it every time, but I really can't express how much I appreciate all of the feedback. You all are awesome!


	9. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte makes her debut. The first clip occurs during S2E2 "Liar, Liar, Slutty Dress on Fire," while the second takes place at the end of S2E5 "The Weaponizer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back for another installment of 'The Angst Files.'
> 
> TW: Some self-harm and Canon character death.
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat <3

The following clip was three days after the last. It was notably shorter than the previous ones. It opened with a too-close shot of Lucifer’s stubble before he adjusted the zoom. Holding the camera at arm’s length, he beamed cheerfully, though Chloe noticed a certain strain to his features. _“Hello again! Looky__ here – I found Mum.” _

The camera was directed away from Lucifer’s smug smile, focusing instead on the two women standing opposite him. Chloe’s heart pinched, seeing Charlotte Richards alive and well on screen. She stood next to Maze, managing to look arrogant even though she appeared to be clad in one of Lucifer’s suit coats and nothing else. The hem barely managed to cover her groin and, if the generous amount of side-boob she was sporting was any indicator, she likely didn’t have any underwear on either.

Lucifer’s train of thought apparently mirrored Chloe’s own. _“Bloody hell; that’s another jacket I’ll have to toss in the bin. Can’t wear it now that my mum has had all her naked human bits up inside it, can I?”_

Charlotte – well, Lucifer’s mother in Charlotte’s body – was watching him closely, curiosity and bewilderment written across her face. _“What are you doing, Son? Why are you speaking to that small brick? __Will it respond?”_

_“No, Mum, it’s a camera.”_ Lucifer’s voice was clearly exasperated, and he scoffed when she scrunched her brows in confusion. _“It’s part of my therapy__; Doctor Linda thinks it will help me.”_ His arm extended into view, showing Charlotte the remote that controlled the device. _“You just press this little red button, see? The camera records whatever you do or say until you press the button again. Basically, I talk and it listens.”_

Maze had circled behind Charlotte, and after Lucifer’s explanation she leaned close to the taller woman’s ear. The camera’s microphone picked up a rough, sultry breath. Chloe noticed that, compared to Maze’s previous enticing performance with Lucifer, this one seemed more menacing, more aggressive somehow. There was a hungry emphasis to her words when she spoke. _“I could record everything I do to you,”_ she breathed, violent intent mingling with salacious phrasing.

_“I said there would be none of that, Maze!”_ Lucifer cut in, causing the demon to pout while Charlotte grinned haughtily. _“Besides, we can’t use the camera for anything untoward until I’ve fulfilled my side of the deal.”_

_“I don’t understand, Lucifer,”_ Charlotte began, _“Why would you talk to this ‘camera’? Does it have healing properties?”_

_“No, no, it’s… Look it doesn’t matter, alright? It’s just this thing I do, and it helps me feel better sometimes.”_

Charlotte’s eyes lit with comprehension. _“Oh! It’s your kink!”_

Maze cackled loudly, and the camera jostled violently. Lucifer sputtered, trying to find words amidst the horror that doubtlessly enveloped his mind. _“Where on Earth did you hear that word, Mother?!”_ His voice was strained, cracking slightly. Chloe wished he’d turn the camera back around; there was something terribly endearing about his face when he was flustered.

Unfortunately, the camera stayed focused on Charlotte, who rolled her eyes in a mix of exasperation and disgust. _“Oh, these grimy street humans offered to help me find you if I participated in this group ‘kink’ endeavor.”_ Charlotte frowned, wrinkling her nose. _“However, all of their ‘kinks’ seemed to involve sharing various foul-smelling substances produced when-”_

_“Aah! Ah! Ah!”_ Lucifer interrupted loudly, drowning out his mother’s detailed description of whatever dirty hobo orgy she’d found herself taking part in. “_Please, _please_ never continue that sentence ever again.”_

Charlotte shrugged, unconcerned. After a moment, Lucifer sighed, his breath rattling harshly across the microphone. He turned the camera back around; his face was grim and on the unpleasant side of nauseated. _“Right. This was obviously a bloody __mistake,”_ he muttered before lowering the camera and stopping the recording.

~v~v~v~

The next video was longer, taking place a week later. Initially, the penthouse seemed empty. The camera was positioned next to one of Lucifer’s Italian leather chairs, affording a view of the bar and elevator in the background. A still darkness enveloped the edges of the room. Before long, however, the sound of a woman’s heels against the expensive marble preceded Charlotte’s entrance into the scene. She paced restlessly, glancing in the camera’s direction hesitantly every few steps. Intertwining her fingers nervously, she finally approached the device and sat on the edge of the nearby seat.

_“I’m not sure why I’m bothering with this ‘camera,’”_ Charlotte grouched, _“It seems pointless, talking to an insentient apparatus. However, Lucifer told me it helps him clear his head sometimes, and well…”_ Her hands never stopped moving; the slender digits constantly writhed, hypnotizingly emotive. She suddenly leaned back, flattening her hands across her thighs with a firmness that wasn’t reflected in her eyes as her searching gaze connected with the lens. _“I need clarity. My poor boys… First Lucifer, now Amenadiel. How many of my children must suffer at His hands? Amenadiel’s divine powers, his very strength seems to have been stolen from him with his Fall.”_

Charlotte rocked forward again, squeezing her fidgeting hands between her thighs in a vain attempt to halt their unsettled motions. _“Lucifer, though; he’s always been so strong. I still see glimpses of my Light Bringer in him, but his time in Hell and on this miserable, human-infested rock has changed him.”_ Her mood shifted swiftly, from anxious to bitter in the silent space between a single heartbeat.

_“His Father’s cruelty is truly boundless,”_ she hissed, hands fiercely fisting the material of her pants. Her eyes locked on the ceiling in a way that reminded Chloe of Lucifer, of how he would stare daggers towards the heavens in defiant challenge. _“Now Uriel, my stubborn little boy, is intent on sending me back to Hell in Lucifer’s stead. I fear…”_ The animosity faded from Charlotte’s voice, and her hands resumed their agitated gestures. _“I fear his Father has made Uriel cruel. The Uriel I knew would never threaten the life of a human, no matter how insignificant one of their minuscule little lives may be__._”

Chloe was trying to fit the pieces of this narrative together, but it felt like she was missing a few key parts of the picture. She searched her memories for mention of Uriel, or allusions to this apparent hostage situation that had taken place. Opening her mouth to ask Linda, she paused when she caught sight of the doctor on the corner of the couch. The normally composed Dr. Martin had one hand over her mouth and tear dampened cheeks. Her posture was stiff, features grim, and it took Chloe a moment to identify the emotion that her friend was struggling with. _Dread_, she finally determined. Immediately after this revelation, Linda’s watery gaze met her own, and the sober entreaty Chloe found there stayed her tongue. ‘_Please don’t ask_,’ that expression implored, ‘_Please_.’

On-screen, Charlotte had resumed her pacing. _“I mean, if I may be honest with you, little camera__, I admit I am slightly confused. When Uriel presented his ultimatum, either sending me back to Hell or dispatching of that little ‘Detective,’ I had hoped that Lucifer would choose me__. I’m his mother, after all, despite everything that has happened.”_ She gestured towards the closed elevator doors, frustration and anxiety lending a turbulent property to the quick motion. _“But instead, he has gone out to find another way, one where he doesn’t have to choose at all.”_ Charlotte deflated somewhat, returning to her previously abandoned seat. Her voice was softer now, almost vulnerable. “_I have to wonder – is it because he would not have chosen me?”_

The weight of these words hit Chloe in the chest like a truck, sending her mind reeling at the implications. This divine family drama was maddening, and now that she knew it was all real, the complexities of it were scraping at her mind, thorns against the rosy picture she held of Lucifer’s angelic life before. Would he really have traded his own mother to save her, a human? And this Uriel; would he actually send his mother to Hell, or kill a human in retaliation? The fact that this was all in the past served as little comfort to her; the timeline in her head was rough at best, pieces of conversations that could apply to this situation spanned days, weeks, months.

The concussion-fragmented memory of her car accident filtered to the surface; Chloe remembered how worried Lucifer had been, how concerned he was that he was somehow at fault. It had been nonsensical, at the time – how could a dog running into the street possibly have anything to do with him? But now – now she wondered if he hadn’t been right. Was he trying to warn her of Uriel, of his ill-intentions toward her?

Charlotte seemed to have calmed; her hands were still rubbing together apprehensively but her posture had relaxed some, shoulders no longer taut with uneasy energy. _“If anyone can find a way around this predicament, however, it’s my Lucifer.”_ She glanced at the camera, eyeing it appreciatively. _“And I must admit, he did not lead me astray with you either. I feel improved after engaging in your company.”_

Wringing her hands once more, Charlotte sighed, facing forward. _“I do despise this waiting. I wish to know my fate. I should not have allowed Lucifer to meet his brother alone.”_

The elevator doors opened before she could continue her thought, the golden cab lights casting its lone occupant in stark relief. Charlotte stood immediately, but Chloe couldn’t take her eyes off the other person who still hung back, at the edge of the camera’s focus. She knew it was Lucifer; she recognized his tall frame, broad shoulders, trim waist. Yet, there was something so very wrong with his posture, with the uncertain way he held himself even as Charlotte took a few tentative steps in his direction.

_“What happened?”_ Charlotte asked, concern causing her voice to waver.

Lucifer shuffled forward, taking a few halting steps that were so terribly un-Lucifer-like. Chloe gasped as he came into sharper focus; his white shirt was crumpled and stained with what looked like blood and dirt, face bloody and contorted with an emotion that looked foreign on his features – _terror_. He didn’t speak, it didn’t look like he was able to; he just stood there, shaking, left hand partially concealed behind him. He looked so completely _broken_, and that thought sent enough pain shooting through her soul that Chloe nearly panicked. However, Linda was there now, scooting closer and taking Chloe’s hand in a firm – if trembling – grip.

Charlotte had slowed her approach, obviously noticing Lucifer’s state of turmoil. Her voice was cautious now, fearful. _“Where’s Uriel?”_

Lucifer still couldn’t form words; as he shuffled closer, Chloe could see that his eyes were filled with unshed tears. Both Chloe and Charlotte found the answer in those eyes, so infused with agony and despair and _horror_. Chloe’s ears began to buzz faintly, drowning out Charlotte’s pained gasps – or were they her own? She couldn’t separate the sounds; all that she could focus on was Lucifer’s frightened face and the pain she found there – an ache so pure and so primal that she could feel it in her own bones.

_“What have I done?” _Lucifer questioned weakly, and with that pitiful utterance the absolute devastation that had been held at bay crashed down upon them all, a great landslide of consequences and regrets and choices that had been made and couldn’t be undone. 

Charlotte’s whispered sobs of ‘_No no no_’ blended with Lucifer’s own hoarse keening as she closed the gap between them, pressing him to her as if the very force of her embrace could change the acts of the past. At her touch, Lucifer exhaled the breath from his lungs in a mournful lament, the tears previously held captive by his long lashes finally rolling freely down his face. This was the last sound he allowed himself, reverting to ragged breathing against his mother’s neck as he raised his hands around her back to return her embrace. The light from the bar caught his movement, drawing Chloe’s watery eyes to his left hand. It was covered in blood – _his brother’s blood_, her mind appended.

They stood like that for several moments, clinging to each other in the throes of their grief. Ultimately, though, Lucifer’s legs could no longer bear the burden of standing. He slipped heavily to his knees with a jarring thud. Charlotte, unwilling to part, crouched beside him; her own tear-streaked face now visible in the low light, one arm draped across his shoulders.

Lucifer leaned back, tilting his head to the ceiling and closing his eyes. His entire body shook; violent contractions gripped every muscle in merciless, lurching undulations. He held his hands in his lap, one bloodied and one pure, upturned and away from his frame as he convulsed helplessly.

Seeing his pain, feeling his conflict, Charlotte pulled away and attempted to capture his focus. _“Look at me, Son,”_ she urged weakly, raising a gentle hand to caress his cheek filthy with blood and tears. _“Lucifer, it’s not your fault.”_ When his tremors didn’t abate, she tried again, reaching for his bloodied hand. “_Son, you didn’t mean to-”_

Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, and Chloe was shocked by the churning fire that burned there. He lunged forward with a deep snarl, fueled by hatred and loss and so much unfathomable pain, and slammed his forehead into the marble flooring beneath him. The sudden, sickening crack was shocking, but Lucifer soon lifted his head with a heavy, frustrated sound. It was somewhere between a sob and a growl, and it stirred Charlotte from her surprise, causing her to leap into motion, taking hold of his shoulders in a desperate attempt to stop him.

“_No! Lucifer, please_,” she prayed, _begged_, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Lucifer brushed off her grasping hold and slammed himself face-first into the solid marble again. And again. And _again_.

Chloe lost count of the times Lucifer bludgeoned himself in his anguish. It may have only been a handful of impacts, but it felt like an eternity of suffering. Eventually, mercifully, Lucifer was finally able to knock himself unconscious. His body sprawled, face down in the crumbled bits of marble that he’d shattered in his desperate quest for relief. Charlotte wept above him, hands sweeping frantically through his hair, over his shoulders. She lifted his head into her lap, his face finally relaxed and untormented, and smoothed her fingers across his features, wiping away some of the grime that had settled there. Her body began to rock gently, back and forth, cradling Lucifer to her as much as possible.

_“My poor boy… my morning __star,”_ Charlotte mourned, voice shaky and thick with unspeakable emotion. While she swayed, a small object clattered from her pocket onto the floor. She fumbled for it, confused, before recognition flashed across her features and she looked straight into the camera. She raised the remote, eyes burning with sorrow and sharp, scorching rage as the video ended.

Linda and Chloe sat quietly for a long time, holding each other and waiting for the aches in their hearts to abate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Your comments and kudos mean so much to me. 
> 
> Hopefully I did not make you too sad... I binged Schitts Creek to get out of my angsty funk after writing this.
> 
> See you next week!


	10. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer doesn't know how to handle his grief or guilt. Videos take place between S2E5 "Weaponizer" and S2E6 "Monster".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******TRIGGER WARNING*******  
This is a sad chapter, with multiple forms of self-harm. The first video involves alcohol abuse. The second includes a graphic description of self-injury/cutting. 
> 
> Please skip the videos (marked by ~v~v~v~) if this makes you uncomfortable. Suffice to say, the takeaway is that Lucifer is not handling this well. 
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat :)

After the last video, a break was needed. Linda decided to order some lunch from Xang Chao’s while Chloe excused herself to the bathroom. Shutting the door firmly, she took a deep breath before leaning heavily against the vanity and looking at her reflection in the mirror. She was a wreck; her eyes were puffy and red, cheeks permanently rosy and painful after being abraded by salt for hours. Her hair fell about her wildly, unkempt and tangled.

Chloe leaned forward until her forehead touched the glass surface, enjoying the sharp cold against her flesh. Her harsh exhale sent fog spreading across the glass, fortunately blocking the mess that was her face from view for a few blissful moments. Silently composing herself, she next splashed some cold water on her face. It stung more than expected, but the discomfort served to level her mind, if only a little.

Lucifer had killed his brother. He’d killed Uriel to protect his mother, and to protect her. That truth should be overwhelming, insurmountable; it was her job to arrest murderers, after all. Yet, after seeing his remorse, his terror, she knew he was no cold-blooded killer. Was it manslaughter, if the person he killed wasn’t really a man? Self-defense would technically cover the use of reasonable force – he was protecting others, after all. Her thoughts raced to rally in defense of the man – Devil – that she loved.

However, as Chloe gingerly patted her face dry with a towel, she realized with a sinking heart that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that humanity’s law would probably be on his side. It didn’t matter that she was on his side now, not really. Neither she nor the law had been involved in this occurrence. Watching these past events transpire was proving to be more brutal than she’d expected. She wanted to comfort him, to be there for him when he needed her, to tell him she understands and loves and _forgives_. But it didn’t matter, not anymore; he wasn’t here, she hadn’t been there, and no amount of heartache would be able to change that excruciating reality.

A light knock on the door broke Chloe away from contemplating her regret. “Chloe, are you alright?” Linda’s voice was soft, but it was easy to hear the anxiety that flavored her words.

Chloe opened the door quickly, unable to stand her friend worrying any more than she had to. “I’m fine, Linda, I’m sorry. I just needed a sec to arrange my thoughts.”

Linda looked her over carefully; for what, Chloe didn’t want to examine too closely. “I understand,” the doctor nodded, satisfied that Chloe didn’t look any worse than when she’d entered the bathroom. “Well, Chao’s said they’d be here in forty. I’m going to force you to eat in front of me, you know that, right?”

Chloe was about to protest when her stomach decided to chime in, loudly bemoaning its empty discomfort. She laughed weakly, combing her hair out with her fingers as she made her way back to the living room. “I guess I can’t argue now, can I?”

“Nope,” Linda agreed. “Don’t make me pull out the ‘he wouldn’t want you to starve yourself’ card, because I will.”

Slumping gracelessly to the couch, Chloe admitted defeat. “Fine, fine. You play dirty, Doc.” Her gaze caught on the TV, screen filled with thumbnails waiting to be opened, past moments on hold until she was able to make them present again, if only for an instant. The longer she delayed, the further _past_ Lucifer seemed, and Chloe quickly found the postponement to be unbearable. She reached for the mouse while Linda took up residence behind her, opting to stand for now. There were several brief clips recorded within the week and a half following Uriel’s death, the first being shortest of all.

~v~v~v~

Charlotte’s worried face filled the screen initially. She was rushing somewhere, the view bumping and shaking with each step. A glimpse of mirrored black finish behind her indicated she was still in the penthouse, but nothing else offered any specificity until she broke the threshold to the balcony. The camera tilted, capturing beautiful blue and soft white before being leveled at a black-draped figure sloppily seated in one of the patio chairs.

It was Lucifer, of course it was Lucifer, but the man Chloe found herself staring at didn’t look like the Lucifer she knew. He was unbelievably pale, hair disheveled, stubble long and ungroomed. He had a black satin robe carelessly wrapped around him, tied crookedly enough that it left near-indecent gaps caused by bunched fabric. Chloe was so distraught by the wrongness of him that she didn’t immediately notice the bottles until he grabbed one with a clumsy, jerky motion and began greedily drinking from it.

Various empty liquor bottles littered the patio floor around Lucifer; some were shattered, others tipped over, most all were empty. The only full bottle left appeared to be the one he was currently chugging. Chloe watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and he didn’t stop for breath until the entire bottle was empty. He let the container fall from his loose grasp, sending it crashing on top of the others.

The camera moved closer, Charlotte finally speaking up. “_Lucifer… look, Son. I’ve brought the camera. Maybe you could-_”

“_Fuck th’fuckin’ camera, mum!_” Lucifer snarled abruptly. Chloe found the profanity shocking – Lucifer had never been one to curse excessively. It sounded so vulgar, coming from him. His eyes were wild, struggling to focus, as he made an aggressive swipe for the device his mother was holding. He was too disoriented, however, and instead ended up crashing harshly to the floor, glass shattering beneath him as he landed face down. He lay deathly still, and Chloe panicked when she heard him exhale a final, rattling breath before quieting completely. She’d heard that last expiration before, from suspects and victims alike, as they lay wounded and dying.

The seconds ticked by, and Charlotte muttered something that sounded like ‘_not again_.’ Finally, Lucifer’s eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply, the large, gulping breath desperate and pained. He rolled over as he caught his breath, sending more bottles rolling and breaking. Glaring upward, he eventually managed to choke out a hoarse sentence.

“_Y’should’ve let him,_” Lucifer slurred, unfocused gaze roaming in the camera’s general direction. Flat on his back now, he spread his arms wide as if to invite an attack from above. “_Should’ve let Dad dessstroy me when he wanted to. Would’ve been better f’r you, for ev’ryone_.”

“_Oh, Lucifer…_” Charlotte’s voice sounded pained, torn, but the camera cut off before she could continue.

~v~v~v~

The next video opened to a shot of a shirtless Lucifer sitting on the floor of his bathroom. He still looked disheveled, distraught, but he wasn’t quite as pale or unhinged as he had been previously. His bare back rested against the frosted shower door, and he twirled one of Maze’s knives in his right hand. After a few idle moments of thought, the blade slicing through the air repeatedly with menacing whispers, his deep voice broke the silence.

“_Who punishes the Devil?_” he asked, brow furrowed. “_The obvious answer is Dad, but all He’s good for nowadays is being bloody silent_.” Acid dripped from Lucifer’s words, and his muscles visibly tensed as he continued. “_I mean, I- I killed my own brother. I’ve never…_” His voice choked, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the glass with a dull thud.

Lucifer’s eyes snapped open only a few seconds later, and Chloe was taken off-guard by the searing hellfire that seethed in his irises. The flames burned and flared with so much violence and outright hatred that Chloe felt her instincts bristle along her spine, telling her _Danger_, _Run_. This was the gaze he used to turn criminals into crying piles of piss and pleas, the gaze he used to command and dominate.

“_I **must** be punished_,” Lucifer growled out, the hand with the knife stilling its incessant motion abruptly. Chloe noticed his grip turn white-knuckled, but there was no other warning before he raised the blade to his collarbone and sunk it into his skin. His teeth clenched in a silent snarl as the first drops of blood began trailing their way down his chest. Chloe raised her hands to her mouth to stifle her horrified gasp when his arm began to move.

He dragged the knife slowly through his flesh, the agonizing pace underscored by the sound of the blade slicing its way along sinew and skin. Lucifer made a long, diagonal cut, and didn’t stop until he’d reached his bottom rib on the opposite side he’d started from. The clatter of the hell-forged metal as it dropped to the tiled floor snapped Chloe from her horror-induced shock. The wound was ugly and gaping; blood poured from it at a frightening pace, easily soaking his torso and pants, and contributing to a slowly growing crimson puddle beneath him.

Lucifer took a deep, despondent breath, seemingly unconcerned by the blood loss. “_It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough_,” he murmured, raising one hand to wipe at the blood on his chest. He contemplated his crimson-stained digits for several long seconds before his eyes connected with the camera. His pale flesh began to disintegrate, leaving behind angry red scar tissue in its stead. Chloe’s eyes were drawn to the deep scarred stab wound near the center of his chest, where it looked like he’d been impaled. Her heart ached for him, for the pain that each mark represented.

A rough red hand tipped with sharp black claws ran across the new wound he’d made, which even now looked minor in comparison to the damage that had previously been visited on his body. The bleeding had already begun to slow considerably. “_No punishment will ever compare to the first, you know. There is no equal to the eons of fire, ceaselessly being consumed by flames yet not dying, burning without respite until even pain loses its meaning.” _Lucifer’s voice had changed; it was deeper and rough and raw, but it was a mere shadow of the echoing timbre Chloe had heard from him before. His eyes, formerly so fiercely seething, had dimmed to embers, the dying remains of a lonely campfire in some dark, abandoned wood.

“_So, then, what am I to do?_” he asked weakly, “_How am I to endure this – this **anguish** in my soul, without being able to impose a proper punishment?” _Lucifer dropped his head to his hands, running his fingers over the mottled skin of his scalp in frustration. The sound of his claws dragging against scarred flesh provided a raspy, stumbling cadence that carried ominously through the speakers.

“_Useless_,” Lucifer finally stated, straightening a bit, watery eyes finding the camera again. “_Bloody useless feeling. There’s no point in any of this_.” He sagged against the glass of the shower door, looking ineffably defeated, worn. The disfigured red skin covering his body gradually receded, replaced by his normal, pale flesh. The wound across his chest looked less severe, more superficial.

He reached out with a shaking hand and turned the camera off.

~v~v~v~

Chloe sat for a moment, considering the previous clip. She was disturbed by Lucifer’s willingness to harm himself, by the severity of the wound he’d inflicted. However, at the same time, she wasn’t necessarily surprised. He’d always been so self-destructive, so ready to take harm upon himself, that deep down she’d suspected something along these lines. He’d told her that he’d cut off his wings, after all.

Her heartbeat stuttered at the thought, remembering the beautiful white wings that had sprung from seemingly nowhere. They had been so breathtaking, radiating with a warmth that felt so foreign yet familiar at the same time. For the briefest of moments they’d eased her heartbreak, but then they were gone, along with him, and the loss that replaced them had stolen her breath away.

A single tear escaped her eye before Chloe blinked the rest away, refocusing. “I can’t imagine,” she started, mouth dry. “Any of it, I mean. He’s suffered so much.” Chloe turned to look at Linda, who was still standing behind the couch and looking just as affected as Chloe felt. “How is he still so… so…”

“Him?” Linda finished, plucking her glasses from her nose to clean the lenses stained with tears, old and new alike. “I don’t know, really. Abandoned by your parents and betrayed by your siblings is one thing. But then you add in the Divinity – the DSM-5 doesn’t consider that – and you get this nearly incomprehensible yet fantastically genuine mess that is Lucifer.” She smiled fondly, but it soon turned downward into a frown. “All he’d ever really known was punishment, I think. I’m not surprised he lashed out at himself. I saw it happening back then, confronted him, but I still didn’t believe, you know.”

Chloe shook her head in agreement; she knew all too well what it was like to doubt Lucifer’s truth, to purposefully avoid the mystery and instead insist on a definition that fit the parameters she’d specified for Reality. “He tried to kill himself, I think,” Chloe remembered suddenly, swallowing roughly. “He’d disappeared, and then when he came back, he was a wreck. He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, but then he stormed into an active shooter’s line of fire, demanding to be shot.”

Linda moved around the couch to lean heavily against the arm opposite Chloe. “Oh, I remember. He came to see me after.” She hesitated briefly, lips pursing in thought. “I think it’s best to continue watching, though. I suspect he’ll share how that went. Hint: _not good_.”

Chloe silently nodded and started the next video.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for sticking with me through the sad! 
> 
> I appreciate every single comment and kudos. I really REALLY do. 
> 
> I am unsure if I will make the Tuesday post date next week. I'm currently motorcycle shopping (my first!) so my focus is split. 
> 
> Never fear, though! My juxtaposed_cat will keep me returning with threats of bodily harm :)


	11. Mea Carcerem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A broken therapist and a soul-deleting dagger. Videos take place between S2E6 "Monster" and S2E7 "My Little Monkey", and then after S2E8 "Trip to Stabby Town".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've missed you all so much! More notes at the end.
> 
> *TW* - There is a bit of Hitler/Holocaust referencing and some implied torture. Nothing crazy, but if that's not your bag I would recommend skipping the second video.
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat <3

“_Well, I’ve broken my therapist!_” Lucifer exclaimed from off-screen; his tone made an attempt at flippancy but fell just short, landing more in the territory of unsettled. The camera was set so that it faced the leather sofa this time; the soft glow of the library could be seen in the background, but overall the penthouse was dim. Lucifer soon swept into frame, carrying a glass of amber liquid, and sunk gracefully to his seat directly in front of the camera. He took a deep drink before setting the glass on the coffee table in front of him.

“_I didn’t intend to, mind you, but she insisted I expose myself to her__._” Lucifer paused, a sheepish frown flitting across his features. “_Not like that, no. I mean, she insisted I show her my Devil face. She wouldn’t believe me, when I told her that I was the one who’d killed Uriel. I was – am __– just so bloody tired…_” He trailed off, leaning back and looking towards the balcony for a moment.

Chloe used the brief pause to examine him more closely. He looked better, thankfully, but something about him still seemed raw, vulnerable. It reminded her of the time she’d almost touched his scars; she’d felt the barely restrained chaos under his too-warm skin, seen the unguarded maelstrom of emotions flare behind his eyes. Despite the sure grip with which he’d held her, he’d felt so very fragile in that moment, as if one wrong move could send something within him shattering to the marble floor. When Lucifer refocused his gaze on the camera and leaned forward, Chloe caught the insecurity housed there, and it made her heart ache terribly for him.

“_I’d thought… no, no, I knew better, it’s just that…_” Lucifer’s brow creased in frustration as he tried to bring order to his mind so that he could express himself fully. Eventually he sighed, slumping somewhat as he threw his hands up in exasperation. “_I allowed myself to _hope_, you see. Another useless, contemptible, tortuous emotion, that is. I thought I’d learned that lesson millennia ago. __Yet there I was, in Doctor Linda’s office… she was so insistent that I be completely honest with her – which I am, you know – but she wouldn’t believe me_.”

Lucifer shifted restlessly, hands absently reaching for cufflinks that weren’t there. “_She knows so much of me, at this point, and she’s always been so understanding even when she couldn’t _possibly_ understand… I let myself hope that she would be able to understand even this." _He gestured dismissively to his face, which melted abruptly into a reddened mass of scars that juxtaposed sharply with his crisp white shirt and expensive suit. He caught his reflection in the table and stared; hollow, glowing eyes took in each gruesome ridge and pock. The corner of his lip twitched into a scowl.

“_’fraid not even the good Doctor could tolerate this mug, and I don’t blame her_,” Lucifer muttered, voice rough and fragmented with despair. “_It’s not her fault that I’m such a bloody monster, is it? That’s on me._” His scarred bottom lip trembled slightly. “_It’s always been on me_,” he finished weakly, smooth skin beginning to replace aggravated tissue.

A single tear escaped a now brown eye; Lucifer swiftly wiped the moisture from his face and then stared at his damp fingertips almost quizzically. His thoughtful gaze eventually connected with the camera again. “_I suspect my humans – well, all humans, really – would be far better off without me. All I seem to be able to do is cause them suffering.” _He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees and back hunched under some unseen burden.

“_But I don’t want to leave them_,” he disclosed softly, timidly. “_The Detective calls me selfish, and I am. I am so terribly, reprehensively selfish in this_.” Lucifer frowned to himself, and a spark that Chloe was coming to recognize as self-hatred lit within his irises. His next words were rough with resentment as he solemnly reached for the camera.

“_They deserve so much better than me. I am a punishment they haven’t earned_.”

The video ended.

~v~v~v~

The next clip had barely started before Chloe shot out of her seated position in a flurry of agitated motion.

“Sonofabitch!” she shouted at the screen, where Lucifer was seated in one of his leather chairs contemplating the ancient-looking dagger in his hands. “I knew it! You ass!” Chloe whirled on Linda, who had rounded the couch to press Pause. “Do you know what that is!?” she exclaimed wildly, pointing sharply at the knife. “It’s a murder weapon! He stole it from a freaking crime scene!”

Linda nodded, showing none of Chloe’s surprise. “Well, to be fair, I think the murderer technically stole it from him first…” Chloe gaped at the doctor incredulously. After a moment of Chloe opening and closing her mouth wordlessly, Linda continued. “It’s Azrael’s blade… what he killed Uriel with. From what he told me, he initially buried it with his brother. His mother, however, had some… different plans for it.”

Chloe’s agitation deflated at the mention of Uriel. Refocusing on the TV, she studied Lucifer’s frozen face. His eyes were narrowed and locked on the weapon, and she could practically see the gears turning, as they always do, when faced with deciphering an unfamiliar situation. Her heart ached with fondness, forming a sweetly sour lump in her throat that was a challenge to force back down. Chloe motioned for Linda to restart the recording, chewing her bottom lip absently.

Lucifer’s intent stare came alive, and light gently reflected from the dagger to his eyes as he slowly rotated it, inspecting every surface. He was unhurried, deliberate, which only served to set Chloe’s nerves further on edge. When he at last broke the silence, deep timbre thick with unfamiliar emotion, Chloe released a relieved breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“_It’s been a long day,_” Lucifer began, sighing absently. “_Not only did Mum unleash Azrael’s blade on LA, starting a Rube Goldberg-esque chain of murder and mayhem, but I also realized that I’ve never really had a home_.” He scoffed to himself, self-deprecation evident as he slumped a bit in his seat, using the dagger to gesticulate matter-of-factly. “_You know, Heaven was never… it was never comfortable for me, you see? I was never the perfect, obedient son. I relished the escape Dad’s various tasks offered me. It was a prison that I couldn’t wait to be rid of._”

Lucifer roughly rubbed his stubbled chin, his ire evident. “_And then Hell, you know… not meant to be a walk in the park, ay? I went from general population to solitary confinement, as it were. But here…_” He paused, tapping the dagger on his knee. “_Here I have found some semblance of freedom, that which I have desired since my creation – and they want me to abandon that, all in the name of revenge? Whose revenge do they yearn for? They didn’t much care for mine until it aligned with their own.”_

Lucifer laid the dagger down on the side table, opting instead to fiddle with his cufflinks. “_I’ve tried speaking with Doctor Linda about all of this, you know, but she’s still a bit…_” He casually gestured the universal sign for ‘out there’ as he trailed off. “_Not that I blame her, mind you. This is all quite a lot for a human brain to process. She’s doing remarkably well, all things considered._” He uncrossed and then recrossed his legs, uneasiness apparent. “_She has questions, of course. Now, normally I am an open book, but I’ve been having difficulty answering some of her more… pointed queries. For example, she’s been terribly concerned with Hitler.”_

Linda covered her face with her palms and let out a muffled groan.

“_You see_,” Lucifer continued, “_There was a time when I would extol my various torturous accomplishments to all who would listen. I learned better of that habit, however, when a Chinese chap fancied one of my methods enough to coin it Lingchi – you may know it as ‘Death by a Thousand Cuts.’_” He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers before him in thought. “_And Maze never forgave me for leaking the Iron Maiden to humanity. She was quite proud of that one, but mortals made it a bit artless. They are capable of enough monstrosity of their own accord, I’ve learned; there’s no reason to give them any new ideas._”

Chloe was struck by that sentence – that the Devil would call humanity monstrous. He wasn’t wrong; she’d been a cop long enough to know that much. He’d always get so angry when someone would blame the Devil – him – for their perceived sins. Her gut seized with regret as she remembered Lucifer’s gunpoint diatribe at Lux’s bar, a slain Priest at his feet and her service weapon aimed at his chest. ‘All of humanity’s sins are the Devil’s fault, right?’ he’d bitterly stated. ‘I thought you knew different, but I was wrong. You’re just like all the others.’ She could still feel the cold, knifelike pain that had slipped between her ribs at his wounded accusation.

Chloe found little relief from the sharp bite of her regret as Lucifer continued his train of thought.

“_Mind you, I hardly worry about the good Doctor utilizing my punishment recollections as a foundation upon which she builds a flourishing torture enterprise._”

“Well that’s… something, I guess,” Linda murmured, slightly sullenly.

“_It’s just that…_” Lucifer paused again, visibly struggling to decipher his emotions. “_Humans have this way of looking at you when you are disturbing them. It’s a tightness in their eyes, twitch of their lips, reminiscent of fear but with something more… loathing._” His eyebrows drew together, and his eyes took on a far-away look as it became clear that he’d been caught in a whirlwind of memories. “_I’m accustomed to receiving these looks, of course, but not from…_” He shook his head in frustration as he stumbled over his words again. “_I’ve never had friends, not before LA. My prior company consisted of Lilim, demons, and other various Hellspawn, who all adore the depraved, and human strangers that I’ve encountered when I’ve popped up here for a spell. I couldn’t be asked to care what a strange human, a blip in the vastness of the universe, thought of me._”

Lucifer froze with a suddenness that caused Chloe to check to be sure that the video was still progressing. Her eyes flicked back to the screen just as a blinding smile lit up his features. It was so abrupt, she couldn’t help returning the grin. His excitement was still contagious, whether he was there in person or not, it seemed.

“_Ah! That’s it, isn’t it?_” Lucifer finally exclaimed. “_I’ve figured it out, haven’t I?_” His gaze locked onto the camera as he began to elucidate. “_I care! That’s why this is so different. That’s why it… it hurt so much, when the Doctor saw my Devil face and…_” His face faltered for only a moment before regaining its impish charm. “_The Detective… the Doctor… they aren’t blips! They are … planets! Or, or actually, I don’t suspect calling the Detective a planet would be received well.__ Hm… I’ll have to think on that._”

Linda chuckled gently, though Chloe noted her cheeks were wet. Lucifer stretched out a bit on-screen, apparently quite satisfied with a job well done.

“_Ooo Doctor Linda, look at me now, ay? Who knew I’d be so good at this? Perhaps one day I’ll show this to you…_” Lucifer tapped his chin thoughtfully. “_In that spirit, I suppose I could tell you a bit about Hitler._”

With the abrupt topic change, Lucifer sat straighter in his chair and looked directly into the camera’s lens. As his posture regained some formal rigidity, his expression followed, transforming from giddy grin to a more solemn version of his smile. His demeanor was respectful, almost courtly; Chloe could easily envision him on a throne rather than the Italian leather chair. “_Hitler was indeed a special case, but not for the reasons you probably inferred. There are some humans who do not feel the guilt they should when they die. Hitler, for one, regretted not killing more people; hardly the right spirit. A sort of cleansing must take place – brainwashing, if you will._”

As he spoke of Hellish brainwashing techniques, the last vestiges of Lucifer’s smile slipped from his face. Chloe found herself mourning the loss, and regret began once more grasping at her edges; it pulled on threads with measured fangs, snagging the once neatly woven strands and threatening to send her unraveling. She’d wasted so much time; time that could have been spent basking in that contagious, effervescent smile of his.

Lucifer’s calm voice cut through Chloe’s mind, meteoric against the dark backdrop of her melancholic thoughts. “_It’s never the same, of course. Millions of condemned souls in Hell, and they each have a unique, tailored Hell loop. However, there is a singular aspect they all have in common. Can you guess, Doctor, what that is?_” A rueful smile, more a baring of teeth than an expression of joviality, transformed his features. His rage was always so close to the surface, and the easy way with which he slipped into its comforting embrace reminded Chloe of just how raw, how fresh his emotional injuries still were to him, regardless of the millennia that had passed. Her regrets slithered forward once more, reminding her venomously of the pain she’d inflicted on him herself.

“_Hope, of course,_” Lucifer growled out after a moment. “_I’ve extensive personal experience regarding its effectiveness as a punishment._” His face was mirthless now. “_If you remind them of what they once had, they will miss it all the more. Give the man lost in the desert the barest drop of water, and his thirst will resurge forward tenfold. Give a murderous dictator the briefest of gentle caresses from his wife, and he will suffer on that lost kindness for decades as he is subjected to the same horrors that he leveled on an entire people._

Lucifer’s eyes grew dark as he inhaled roughly, flames soon flickering to life in their blackened depths. “_Give an outcast son a reminder of the Divine favor he once held, of the fire that once ran through his veins and sparked entire galaxies__…_” He brought his hands in front of him, fingers splayed as if holding an invisible sphere. His burning gaze fixated on his palms, seemingly affronted by their emptiness.

The dagger, still lying forgotten on the side table, rattled of its own accord against the glass surface. The noise snapped whatever spell of recollection had overtaken Lucifer. He took a deep, cleansing breath, eyes sapped of their previous fire.

_“…Well, Doctor,_” Lucifer started hesitantly, once he’d regained his bearings, “_That’s as much about Hitler as you should know, I imagine. Trust me – it’s best not to get hung up on the details._”

A knock on the front door of Chloe’s apartment neatly coincided with the end of the recording.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY hiatus, guys!
> 
> I'm sorry for the long absence. Writer's block is a bitch, and my Beta had some major surgery that they've been recovering from. It just doesn't feel right proceeding without them! Their feedback sustains me.
> 
> Speaking of sustaining, your continued comments and kudos meant the absolute world to me! Whenever I was down on myself and rewriting the same paragraph 500 times, I confess to glancing at my inbox now and again. You all are truly the best community ever!
> 
> I did, in fact, purchase a motorcycle! 2009 Yamaha FZ6. Her name is Miko. Thank you for the kind words of encouragement, and sorry if I made anyone worry about potential accidents with my conveniently-timed disappearance. No crashes yet, and I'm around 3500 miles deep. I LOVE it! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I promise the wait for the next will be nowhere near as long. Stay safe, stay healthy, and wash your damn hands!


	12. Devil-May-Care?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer considers home and humanity. Video takes place after S2E9 "Homewrecker".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is everyone as excited for the upcoming season as I am? 
> 
> I don't think there are any triggers in this one. Shocking, I know! I even snuck a tiny bit of fluff into my angst this time around. 
> 
> Beta'd by juxtaposed_cat <3

Xang Chao’s didn’t taste as good as Chloe remembered; but, in their defense, each mouthful of noodles was flavored by the sourness of lingering melancholy. Still, she dutifully continued to munch on the food that Linda had graciously paid for. They sat in thoughtful silence as they ate, for which Chloe was relieved. She needed some time to process this sensitive side of Lucifer that she was unaccustomed to.

Prior to these recordings, Lucifer’s actions had been her best indicator of his feelings. Even then, she had to discern which actions were real and which were acts. Was that gentle hand on her shoulder a sign that he cared, or was he performing for someone she didn’t notice? He always put on such a grand show; it was easy to forget that he could be hurt. He tried so hard to deny his feelings, to deflect and distract. Lucifer had worked for ages, literally, to perfect his defenses – yet here he was, trying to drop them when he was alone, if only to get some glimpse of meaning for himself.

Chloe’s stomach gave an unpleasant roll, causing her to grimace and lay down the half-empty container she’d been eating out of. That was enough of that, it seemed. She cleared her throat, simultaneously trying to cover up her brief lapse in intestinal fortitude and regain Linda’s attention.

When Linda’s previously far-away gaze refocused and landed on Chloe, she offered a small smile. “I’m sorry, Chloe; I think I got a bit lost in my thoughts.”

Chloe shook her head in the negative. “No need to apologize. I did too. Are you… are you doing OK? I mean, I know you’re here for me, but if it’s too difficult for you…”

It was Linda’s turn to shake her head. “No, it’s not too difficult. I’ll admit, I was afraid of this part – I don’t feel like I helped Lucifer as much as I could have. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of a situation with him that I could have handled differently, better. I was worried that he’d blame me as much as I sometimes blame myself.” She sighed, setting the remains of her lunch on the table next to Chloe’s. “But here he is, being much more mature than I often gave him credit for. He could be such a drama queen…”

Chloe snorted, chuckling as she rose and began clearing the discarded food containers. “Honestly, drama queen sounds like an understatement. Are we talking about the same Lucifer?”

Linda grinned. “Oh, undoubtedly. There’s only one, right? Please tell me there’s only one – I don’t think I can handle another.”

As they tidied up, they continued to gently joke and chat about the universal consequences of having multiple Lucifer’s running around in emotional disarray. By the time they settled themselves back on the couch, they were speculating on the merits of a Highlander-style battle between all the different facets of Lucifer’s personality.

“In the end, I think Pride won, but he pulled some shady shit to get a leg up on Wrath,” Chloe finished, getting comfortable and readying the next video. Linda nodded and started to respond, but whatever she’d been about to say was cut short by the preview image on the screen. Chloe noticed the look of trepidation that flashed across the doctor’s face, though the other woman recovered quickly.

“Ready?” Chloe asked, though she itched to know what the doctor had noticed, maybe even remembered. She’d likely find out soon enough. At Linda’s nod, Chloe pressed Play.

~v~v~v~

The camera’s focus adjusted multiple times before Lucifer’s brooding form became clear. Lucifer’s penthouse was darker than usual; the light from the bar’s backsplash appeared to be the only source of illumination, and this cast a disconcerting pall over the scene. He was once again seated in one of his leather chairs; his phone rested face-down on one armrest while a glass of whisky occupied the other. An ornate decanter sat on the side table, within easy reach. Knowing Lucifer, he probably intended to finish it off, if the look on his face was anything to go by. His mouth was set in a grim line, brow creased in concentration.

Lucifer stayed quiet for a long time. Intermittently, he would absently bring the whisky glass to his lips and take a shallow sip. Chloe doubted he even tasted the liquor; the motion struck her as more habit than anything else. The only other movement in the deceptively tranquil scene was the constant, steady tap of one leg, elegantly crossed over the other. His Louboutin gently pressed against the air in such an even rhythm that Chloe was reminded of the practiced pressure he used on the Steinway’s pedals, and she wondered if there was a melody in his head even now.

A clinking sound brought Chloe’s focus back to his hands, where he gently struck his ring against the side of the glass. His eyes had refocused, finding the camera briefly as he inhaled sharply before finishing the rest of his drink. The rough sigh that followed lingered in the air as he refilled his glass. Chloe couldn’t help but notice the slight way his hands shook as he poured. Nearly all of his nervous tics were on display, it seemed. Whatever he was contemplating so seriously had him severely rattled. Chloe edged forward in her seat as Lucifer opened his mouth to speak.

“_I… I’ve had an odd few days,” Lucifer began, taking another drink from his glass. “Not only was I in danger of losing Lux, but… but the Doctor thinks-_”

The phone on the armrest buzzed, drawing his attention. Lucifer placed his hand on it, visibly struggling to decide if he should look at it or not. His long fingers spasmed with indecision before he deliberately released the device, instead taking another drink of liquor. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with unexpressed emotion. “_I’d only intended to show my appreciation, you know. It’s the polite thing to do, when someone… I mean, is that so difficult to believe? An innocent gesture of gratitude?_”

Lucifer uncrossed his legs, sitting straighter while placing the glass to the side. “_Admittedly, innocence is not my forte, but still…_” He gestured absently, as if that wasn’t the understatement of the century, before running a hand through his hair. “_I want to believe that the good Doctor has finally been driven to insanity by all of this Divinity nonsense, I do. Yet, something she said continues to – to practically vibrate inside of me, pardon the imagery._” His lip twitched, fighting off a smirk.

Chloe couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Even in the middle of an emotional crisis, trust Lucifer to sidetrack himself with innuendo. Soon, though, he raised a hand to his chest, pressing his palm flat against his sternum, over his heart. He stayed like that, motionless, for several long breaths. As his eyes drifted closed in concentration, Chloe found herself pressing her palm against her own chest. Her heart beat strongly, and for a moment she let herself imagine it was his heart drumming against her skin, his chest expanding beneath her touch. She didn’t realize that she’d shut her eyes until Lucifer’s sudden, harsh laugh made them snap back open.

“_I’m afraid,_” Lucifer whispered, the declaration tinged with disbelief. “_I’m so rarely afraid… but the Doctor was right. Of course, she was._” The hand that still lingered on his chest slowly clenched into a fist. His expression tightened, wavering between anger and something sharper, more broken. “_If the Doctor was correct about that, then what of my home? If not Lux, and not LA…_”

Lucifer stood so abruptly, he nearly overturned both the chair and the side table. The sharp grating of wood against marble was painfully intense, though blissful in its brevity. Lucifer began pacing restlessly, the camera only able to capture his lower half as he took aggressive strides that brought him nowhere. It didn’t take long for the ranting to begin.

“_It’s just not possible! The Devil can’t find a home in humanity, for Dad’s sake!_” His pacing paused, and Chloe guessed that he was leveling an accusatory glare at the ceiling by the way his center of gravity shifted. “_Is this yet another cruel joke at my expense? If so, bravo! You’ve really done it now, haven’t you? Bloody brilliant!_”

A moment of silence followed his outburst, filled by nothing but the sounds of Lucifer’s harsh, agitated breaths. Eventually, he sunk back into the chair much more gracefully than he’d left it. His hair was disheveled now, the tips beginning to curl after being knocked free from their places. As if sensing the disarray, Lucifer’s hand absently ran through the dark locks.

“_'Home is where the heart is,’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? Well, she can’t be my home because she doesn’t know… she doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know what I’ve done… she doesn’t know!_” Lucifer growled out this last statement, frustration making his voice rough. “_Her life revolves around catching murderers and I… It would hurt her, and I’ve done so much of that already, you know. She is kind, truly kind, and good. She doesn’t deserve a monster like me. I’ll taint her, as I’ve tainted everything and everyone before her._”

Chloe’s heart was racing, even as it was breaking all over again. “You idiot,” she whispered at the screen. The phone on the armrest vibrated again, and although Chloe knew how this story ended, she still found her heart hoping that he’d answer her texts, that he’d leave to meet her any moment. Anything to prevent the way she’d felt that night, having to dodge pitying looks from the busboy.

“_It’s best if I don’t go,_” Lucifer murmured, dejection now evident in his tight features as his eyes stayed laser-focused on the phone at his side. “_She’ll not have to look back and regret the time she broke bread with a murderer. She’s much too kind to hold onto regrets like that; if humans aren’t careful, regret can ferment and mutate into guilt, and I’ll not have her weighed down with guilt because of me. I’m not worth it._”

Lucifer’s strong hands both ran roughly through his hair, leaving it standing at odd directions when he was through with its harsh treatment. A frustrated growl tore its way from his throat, and he turned his attention to the camera in front of him. “_It’s for the best. I know it is. So, why is it so fucking difficult to stay away!?_”

The roared question had barely left his lips before the phone started vibrating again. With a movement nearly too fast to follow, Lucifer abruptly hurled the device across the room. It landed with a crash that sounded expensive. “_I don’t understand! I don’t understand why this is so difficult! I don’t understand what possessed me to ask the Detective out to dinner, I certainly don’t understand why I thought dancing with her was a bright idea…_”

As if punched in the gut, Lucifer instantly deflated, sinking into the chair and scrubbing viciously at his face with his hands. “_I’m so tired of not understanding,_” he mumbled through his fingers. 

He inhaled deeply, the air hissing around his digits, before dropping his hands away and releasing a steadying breath. A silent moment of contemplation passed, and then his lips began to tug upwards into his signature smirk. “_It was quite the dance though, wasn’t it? I’ve had so many dances throughout the ages, mind you. This shouldn’t have been remarkable, simply another night in my club._” Lucifer’s hands flexed as if remembering the feel of his partner. “_But it was. Remarkable, that is. Even though she stepped on my feet, and, quite frankly, had minimal concept of rhythm. I still find myself cherishing that dance. I think… if that were to be the last dance in which I ever participated; I would be content. I could spend eons basking in the languorous memory of her hand in mine, the heat of her skin seeping into my very bones._”

Chloe couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled to life in her chest at his words, a healing balm to her varied wounds. It had been a crazy night, when she’d helped him stage that sit-in at Lux. She’d thought better of dancing with him, but he’d been so earnest in his intentions, so uninhibited in his joy at her presence. What he said was true – she couldn’t keep a beat to save her life. However, Lucifer seemed to genuinely enjoy the moments when they went off-tempo, spinning to their own cadence until their movements eventually realigned with the music. When she stepped on his toes, he’d gently correct her and guide her again without the slightest irritation. And, to Chloe’s absolute shock, his hands hadn’t wandered at all. He’d chosen the most comfortable hold for her, the least threatening – keeping the distance between them more Junior High Dance than Risqué Nightclub.

For a few short hours, she’d just allowed herself to be present and happy, and to bask in the pure delight that Lucifer was exuding. He was so rarely relaxed – experiencing his unfettered elation was almost addictive. She thought she’d maybe glimpsed the real Lucifer, underneath all of the pretenses and illusions. When he’d asked her to dinner, Chloe found herself hoping she would get to dance with him again. Instead, it seemed they’d both spent the evening brooding and pining after that carefree night.

Lucifer’s lazy smile faded as he drifted back into the present. With clear eyes and a straightened spine, he nodded with conviction. When he spoke again, the indecision from his previous tirade was absent; instead, certainty lent a distinct finality to his words. “_For her… for Chloe, I’ll stay away. I’m accustomed to pain – if this is what it takes for her to be happy, then so be it._” 

Despite his confident words, Lucifer’s expression quickly clouded with despondency as he reached for the camera. It wasn’t the abject sorrow of heartbreak that shadowed his features, but the regret-filled desolation of willful sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for the kind and encouraging messages. You are all amazing, and I hope everyone is staying safe during this crazy time. 
> 
> <3


End file.
